


All The King's Men?

by Cerdic519



Series: The British Revolution [4]
Category: Captain America - All Media Types, Winter Soldier (Comics)
Genre: 17th Century, Army, Beheading, Bishops' Wars, Embarrassment, England (Country), English Civil War, F/M, Fifeshire, Friendship, Gay Sex, Inheritance, Ireland, London, Love, M/M, Marriage, Minor Character Death, Nobility, Northumberland, Oxfordshire, Parliament (UK), Pining, Politics, Religion, Royalty, Scheming, Scotland, Secrets, Servants, Stucky - Freeform, Teasing, Thirty Years War, War Crimes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-11
Updated: 2020-08-20
Packaged: 2021-03-06 04:09:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 23
Words: 37,392
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25707211
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cerdic519/pseuds/Cerdic519
Summary: July 1637 to May 1641.King Charles loses control of Scotland, and his efforts to recover it lead only to his being forced to do the one thing that he has striven to avoid for over a decade – call an English parliament, which for some strange and inexplicable reason is less than happy with him. They demand changes and, eventually, the head of one of his chief supporters. Meanwhile Stephen's own life changes unexpectedly as he relocates to England, where he finds a new enemy in his own family. But at least he still has his Winter Soldier.
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Steve Rogers, minor Thor/OMC
Series: The British Revolution [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1809640
Comments: 2
Kudos: 8





	1. Contents

**Author's Note:**

  * For [InsatiableFanfictionLurker](https://archiveofourown.org/users/InsatiableFanfictionLurker/gifts), [kongjing](https://archiveofourown.org/users/kongjing/gifts).

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Contents page.

A.D. 1637 (continued)  
 _34\. The Wait_   
_35\. Processions And Protests_

A.D. 1638   
_36\. Youthful Errors_   
_37\. A Pyrrhic Victory_   
_38\. Faith And Fifteen Minutes_   
_39\. Glorious Ends_

A.D. 1639   
_40\. Hair Today, Gone Tomorrow_   
_41\. Hullo, Hullo_   
_42\. Murder, She Did_   
_43\. Letters And Light Breezes_

A.D. 1640   
_44\. Not You After All_   
_45\. South, Then South-East_   
_46\. Convoys And Curiosity_   
_47\. Short But Not Sweet_   
_48\. Off-Guard At Coldstream_   
_49\. Chop And Change_   
_50\. Home Is The Soldier_   
_51\. Clearout_

A.D. 1641   
_52\. Mercuries And Mercenaries_   
_53\. Destraint And Restraint_   
_54\. Sauce For The Goose_   
_55\. His Blood Lies Between Them_

MDCXXXVII-MDCXLI


	2. The Wait

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A piece of furniture flies through the air with the greatest of ease – and all hell breaks loose as Scotland lurches into what was clearly a planned (but still populist) rebellion against their distant and unthinking king. Stephen and Jamie can do nothing but wait for the royal response, there is another new family member, and young Luke fails to heed some good advice from his surrogate father. Not that Jamie is the sort to gloat....

**July 1637**   
**Edinburgh, Midlothian, SCOTLAND**

Stephen had always wondered at that saying that, at periods of greatest stress, time seemed to slow right down. Now he understood; the folding-stool thrown by the woman seemed almost to hang in the air while the whole congregation watched in shock. 

The stool missed its target and clattered against the side of the pulpit, before falling to the stone floor with an amazingly loud noise in the eerily silent cathedral. But that was nothing to what followed; now that the first blow had been struck the Dean was forced to flee as a rain of bibles, stools and anything that people had to hand was hurled at the villain who had dared to read from the offensive book. Several women stormed the pulpit and started tearing the accursed book to pieces. Stephen also noticed that the barrage of bishops, who had very clearly been lined up as a show of support, were already being ushered out by a back door.

This was bad. So bad.

“Told you so.”

Almost as bad as having a smug bastard like the one beside him, Stephen thought crossly.

“Now what?” the nobleman asked.

“I can guarantee that there will be similar receptions when the accursed book is read out in other towns and cities”, Jamie said. “Traquair – yes, the fellow who seems to have found an urgent engagement elsewhere today of all days – might as well have sent a message to the king a week ago to tell him this, it was so certain. Just as certain as the response, which will be to do as we are told. Well, after Balmerino that will not happen.”

“Which means that the king will bring an army against us”, Stephen said. “Worse, he will expect the northern counties – including Northumberland – to contribute a large part of it.”

“It will not be that large an army”, Jamie said confidently. “Charles Stuart is about to reap the bitter harvest of all those taxes he called to avoid parliament, and he will of course be astonished that his 'loyal' officials are so strangely unhelpful. His wife will be having kittens as this is at least partly her fault, while both Laud and Wentworth will be saying to each other, 'I could have told him _that_ would happen!'”

MDCXXXVII

**July 1637**   
**Edinburgh, Midlothian, SCOTLAND**

Annoyingly for a certain nobleman the next two days proved Jamie all too right about the other towns rejecting the new prayer-book with equal vigour. Not that Stephen told him that; the bastard was smug enough as it was!

“The King's Council has suspended the use of the new prayer-book”, he told his lover when he came in from his last walk before leaving. 

Jamie snorted at the news.

“Until Traquair gets down to London and gives his master the news”, he said, “upon which he will demand both its reinstatement and the punishment of those who dared to go against God's will. Along with an explanation as to why he was not here when all hell broke loose. At least Lorne had the sense to fake an illness!”

The nobleman really wished that his lover could be less of a know-all at times and.... and why was he looking at him like that? They were due to depart within the next hour.

MDCXXXVII

They left after dinner. A dinner which Stephen had had to eat standing up, pointedly ignoring the smirking Lothario in the room.

MDCXXXVII

**August 1637**   
**Wormit, Fifeshire, SCOTLAND**

Stephen quirked an eyebrow at his lover.

“Rothes¹?” he said, surprised. “The same Rothes who carried the sceptre at the coronation barely four years back, one of the few true Scots to attend that event? Surely not!”

“A mixture of things”, Jamie sighed. “He is a firm Presbyterian and that has driven a wedge between him and the king, one that has been widened by his enemies as he too claims descent from both the Bruces and the early Stuarts.”

And we all know how the Stuarts react to rival claimants, Stephen thought, and likely would react if they found that one of of them was shafting a Scottish nobleman twice a day. Minimum!

“He is not one of the leading lords”, he observed instead.

“No”, Jamie said, “but his lands are like your legs when I take you – widespread!” (Stephen scowled at him for that, no matter how right he was). “He has at least some influence in many different parts of the kingdom, unlike say Lorne who is far richer but strong only in the west. And I have seen this in the army, what they call the domino effect. Once one semi-decent noble changes sides, others will feel more inclined to put their heads above the parapet.”

“To likely be shot at by the king when he learns what has happened”, Stephen said. “Traquair must have reached London or wherever the king is taking his pleasure in the country, and will soon be returning with the royal commands. I fear you are right in that Charles Stuart will not give an inch over this. And from the reports of mobs gathering in the cities, neither will the Scottish people.”

“It is darkly funny when you look at it one way”, Jamie said. “The king knew when he dismissed parliament eight years back that he had to avoid all wars because even with his stealth taxes, there was no way he could afford even a small conflict. He closed down his existing wars and avoided dangers from Germany and the Netherlands – but now his foolish actions have caused a war anyway, and in his own backyard.”

“He will soon be trying to raise an army to crush us”, Stephen sighed. “I had better increase the local men's training so they are ready.”

“Me too”, Jamie grinned. “But then I am so much more proficient in the use of a deadly weapon!”

Stephen just rolled his eyes at him.

MDCXXXVII

**August 1637**   
**Wormit, Fifeshire, SCOTLAND**

“News from Oxfordshire”, Stephen said over the breakfast-table, where some smirking bastard was getting far too much enjoyment over the fact he had taken nearly a minute to sit down. And had still uttered a girly shr.... a manly expression of surprise as he had done so. Jamie's wake-up calls were if anything getting even more thorough these days!

“Shut up!” the nobleman muttered, glad that his son was not there to see his arguably less than perfectly together state.

“What news, my obliging liege?” Jamie asked innocently. 

Stephen glared at him.

“Baldur's wife has had a daughter who they are calling Freya”, he said. “And Aunt Agnes has written a story to celebrate, to mark her current Greek history phase. It involves a well-endowed ferryman whose boat serves seven different harbours and who keeps a lover in each one. 'Cheering Charon'.”

That got rid of the smirk, Jamie winced.

“I live in fear that she will somehow contrive to get some of those horrors printed”, he said, “although surely the machinery would break down at such a thing.”

“The world might not be that lucky”, Stephen smiled. “Why is Luke not down yet? He is not one for early rising I know, but he hardly ever misses breakfast.”

Jamie grinned.

“He spent yesterday helping out at the mill, remember.”

Stephen looked at him in confusion.

“So?” he pressed.

“He thought that hauling all those heavy sacks would help build up his muscles”, Jamie said. “But he forgot my advice that said muscles have to be 'worked down' after such an effort, and when he woke this morning he found that he could barely move. I very kindly arranged for some food to be brought to him. I did not gloat, though.”

Stephen looked at him incredulously. The soldier reddened.

“Only a bit?” he said.

MDCXXXVII

**August 1637**   
**Wormit, Fifeshire, SCOTLAND**

“Wentworth seems to be making a success of Ireland.”

Jamie looked across the study at his lover. Outside the rain was falling steadily but that was he knew a good thing; it had been a dry summer so far and the ground needed this sort of constant and not too heavy rain so that the water levels could be replenished. He had seen part of a pasture on the hills above the estate swept away one time when a deluge after a dry spell had caused part of it to collapse under the weight of water that could not be absorbed.

“And that success is a bad thing in one way”, he said, “because it will make the king more confident that he has the money to take us on.”

“That he is getting anything out of that country is a miracle”, Stephen said, “much as I dislike the man. It was always a loss-maker before he got there.”

“Why do you not like him?” Jamie asked. 

“He makes enemies too easily”, Stephen said, “and that makes him dangerous. Especially with this king, who was foolish enough to waste him over there when he could have set his English finances in order. But that would have ruffled too many fine feathers at court, let alone have involved Charles Stuart in some actual work!”

“Miaow!”

“The king is lazy, though”, Stephen said, scowling at his lover's sarcasm. “Any fuss and he backs away from a scheme, be it good or bad. Remember that plan he had to take the sons of Catholic barons and raise them as Protestants? A stupid idea to start with but when he backed away from it and his wife went around boasting that she had talked him out of it.... you are right that this king would never become a Catholic himself, but that sort of thing will only make people wonder.”

“I wonder if Wentworth himself is in danger”, Jamie mused.

“Surely not?” Stephen said. “The king would never allow that, especially after Buckingham.” 

“Many of the king's opponents in parliament are the traditional sort”, Jamie said. “Or were, I suppose, now we no longer have parliaments. They believed in the old medieval idea that the king could do no wrong so any bad actions on his part had to be the fault of some evil counsellors. A stupid belief as this king is his own man, especially with Buckingham gone, but that is what they think so that is what we have to live with. They might reason that getting rid of the likes of Wentworth and Laud would make the king behave better.”

“Which he would not”, Stephen said shortly. “By getting rid, do you mean...?”

Jamie nodded.

MDCXXXVII

_Notes:_   
_1) John Leslie, Earl of Rothes (b. 1600). He died of consumption (tuberculosis) in 1641, just four years on, but his son of the same name became one of King Charles the Second's most loyal adherents and was rewarded by being made Duke of Rothes in 1680, also getting a state funeral when he died the following year. As he had no sons the title reverted to an earldom again under his daughter and successor Margaret; as of 2021 the current 22nd earl James Leslie (b. 1958) is a direct descendant of all three._

MDCXXXVII


	3. Processions And Protests

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> To the total astonishment of no-one the king responds to the Scottish Crisis by demanding that his Northern subjects just behave and do as he commands, and to the total astonishment of no-one except the king, they decline so to do. England's new mega-ship is not exactly a success, Jamie realizes that he may indeed have to fight for Scotland, and there is an unfortunate encounter in a Dundee street.

**September 1637**   
**Edinburgh, Midlothian, SCOTLAND**

Stephen was having to work hard to suppress a smile. His son bounced up and down as if someone had stuck a lightning bolt inside of him, over the moon to be able to see Edinburgh for the first time. Luke had if grudgingly accepted his father’s decision not to take him to Edinburgh for the dramatic events at St. Giles two months back but clearly still wanted to see the largest city in Scotland, so his father had given way to the boy's pestering as he had some business there with a Border landowner who had just inherited some land bordering the Wormit estate in the west and was prepared to sell it to him before decamping to his main lands in Kirkcudbrightshire.

“He looks very fine for someone so young, do you not think?”

Jamie was looking down the road to where a procession was approaching, clearly centred around a finely-dressed young gentleman¹. The nobleman looked sharply back at his friend.

“You think him fine?” he asked, perhaps a little too quickly.

Never mind the perhaps; Jamie openly smirked at his jealousy. Worse, Luke rolled his eyes at him. Why had he brought them with him again?

“My Lord Lennox, recently married to Buckingham's daughter so doubly the king's favourite”, Jamie grinned. “Your father does not seem to like him much, Luke.”

“We know why that is!” said some brat who was not leaving Wormit again any time in the next three years.

“Shut up, the pair of you!” Stephen snapped. “I suppose that the king has sent him here to see just how bad things are.”

“And to instruct the Council to reinstate that accursed prayer-book”, Jamie said. “Of course anyone with _brains_ could have seen that that would happen.”

“Like you, Uncle Jamie”, Luke said unhelpfully.

“I only hope that they do not try to do it while we are in the city”, Jamie said. “Because the people will not take it well.”

MDCXXXVII

**October 1637**   
**Wormit, Fifeshire, SCOTLAND**

Stephen chuckled as he read the news.

“What?” Jamie asked across the breakfast-table.

The nobleman was about to answer when he felt Jamie's socked foot edging up his leg and under his kilt. Damnation, his lover was not only insatiable but amazingly flexible which was great – except that Luke was at the table just a few yards away! Stephen shot a warning look at his lover who, to his annoyance (well, sort of annoyance) did not back off. But at least he did not go any further.

“Typical”, the nobleman said, shifting slightly in his chair. “They tried to launch that new super-ship the 'Sovereign Of The Seas'² last week but it was too big and the tide did not rise high enough to float it off, so all the great and the good who came to see it on the water had to go away disappointed. It is afloat now, for all the good that it will do.”

“I would have thought having the biggest ship is a good thing, Uncle Jamie?” Luke said.

“The king could have paid for at least six warships with the money he wasted on this one”, Jamie said. “Faster and still well-armed ships that could have defended our coasts against the evil Barbary pirates who attack the remoter parts of our island's coastline and steal away our men, women and children for a wretched life in their foul galleys. In the choice between that and making himself look good, Charles Stuart again chose the wrong option.”

“Will the king really come to Scotland with an army from England?” Luke asked. “Mac says he might.”

The boy had recently asked his father if his former guardians might be granted a life tenancy on their cottage so that they did not need to worry about the future. Stephen had been proud of him for showing such consideration and had willingly agreed, as well as promising that the couple's payments for looking after the boy would continue as a pension for both their lives.

“He well might”, Jamie said. “But if he does, we will be ready for him, and he will find it difficult to raise an army in England let alone persuade the men to fight for his cause against another Protestant nation. He will fail.”

“Will you be fighting, Uncle Jamie?”

Stephen had been worrying about that himself, but had not had the courage to come out and actually ask so he was grateful to his son.

“I am a trained fighter, Luke”, Jamie said, “and Scotland as my country needs trained men to defend herself. Yes, I will fight.”

The boy shuddered at that. Jamie stopped molesting his lover and crossed quickly to the boy's place, wrapping an arm around him in comfort.

“Sometimes men have to fight for what is right”, he said consolingly. “But I am a good fighter and I will take care, so I can come back and continue teaching you. I promise, Luke.”

“I love you, Uncle Jamie.”

Stephen could see his lover welling up at that, but he managed to hold it together. It clearly took an effort, though.

“I love you too, Luke.

MDCXXXVII

**November 1637**   
**Wormit, Fifeshire, SCOTLAND**

The news was unusually slow in reaching them for once, but devastating nonetheless. For someone four hundred miles away at least.

“So the Council did try to follow the king's orders and reinstate that dreadful prayer-book”, Jamie mused as they lay together one cold morning. “And who would have thought it but the citizens of Edinburgh rioted and made them all run for cover. Colour me astonished!”

“I wish we had a king who could actually hear that and realize how serious this is becoming”, Stephen said, pulling his Winter Soldier on top of him. “But all we will get from London is more demands to conform and the promise of mercy for those who repent.”

“Which given this king's track record for keeping his word are worth less than a midge's fart!” Jamie said sharply. “I love you.”

Stephen blushed.

“I love you too”, he said. “Any chance of you starting a fire?”

“I would rather start a fire inside you, beloved!” Jamie grinned as he began to rub their bodies together.

Stephen groaned but just went with it. Like he had any other choice!

MDCXXXVII

**December 1637**   
**Dundee, Forfarshire, SCOTLAND**

It was just bad luck that the two men went for a walk at the worst possible time during their visit to the town across the silvery Tay. They were proceeding along the town's main road when they noticed a small procession coming towards them.

“Another nobleman putting about how grand he is”, Jamie sighed.

Stephen looked ahead, them gulped. Uh-oh!

“What is it?” Jamie asked, catching his reaction, “Someone you know?”

The fellow approaching them was a few years younger than them both, spare of frame and with long curled black hair that hung almost carelessly across his shoulders. Yet he had a sense of purpose that shone through his seeming indifference as he made his way through the town.

“That is James Graham, the Earl of Montrose”, Stephen said carefully. 

Thankfully his lover went for the more obvious deduction.

“Ah”, he said. “Your.... cousin?”

“My paternal aunt's brother, so not a blood relative”, Stephen said, relieved that the conversation was moving into less dangerous waters. “Although as my family is like his descended from both King Robert the Second and Bad King John³, I suppose that we must be very distant cousins of some sort. I doubt that he would wish to acknowledge me at that distance, though.”

“He looks more my kin that yours”, Jamie said off-handedly. 

He does, Stephen thought. Because he is your half-uncle despite being four years your junior. And if you ever realize that, you may push towards the even more dangerous territory of who your father was. Then God help us all!

MDCXXXVII

_Notes:_   
_1) James Stewart, Duke of Lennox and Richmond (b. 1612). A rare thing, someone with a claim to both the Scots and English thrones that his second cousin once removed King Charles got on with, likely because Lennox's grandfather Esmé had been a favourite of Charles's late father._   
_2) Named for the vastly overrated King Edgar The Peaceable (957-975), it later became the 'Royal Sovereign'. Impressively it lasted until 1697 when a bosun on night watch left a candle unattended at it burned down to the waterline. The guilty man was publicly flogged then imprisoned in the infamous Marshalsea gaol in Southwark for life._   
_3) Misruled England 1199-1216. He inherited a difficult situation from his predecessor his brother Richard The Lionheart, but made a mess of things such that he lost nearly all the family's ancestral lands south of the Channel and ended the reign with the barons in revolt and his nephew, the son of the King of France, having been invited into England as a replacement. That had come about because he had reneged on a peace deal with the barons, an action which eventually led to Magna Carta. The Scottish King John (ruled 1292-1296) was not much better, nor was John the Second of France (ruled 1350-1364), and the result was that the second Stuart monarch who had been born John changed his name on his accession in 1390 to become King Robert The Third._

MDCXXXVII


	4. Youthful Errors

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stephen narrowly manages to prevent his lover from finding out the whole truth about his origins, but it leads to tension between the two men. Also to the first of three traumatic events for poor Luke who discovers that adults are.... ugh! There are some new guns, a new player in New World politics, and an 'offer' that cannot be refused unless you like dungeon accommodation.

**January 1638**   
**Wormit, Fifeshire, SCOTLAND**

There was a tense air between the two men, and Stephen did not like it one little bit. Even Luke had caught onto it and had been less than his normal boisterous self during the Yuletide season.

Jamie had, he knew, written to his mother inquiring as to his real parents; luckily with Fraser's help Stephen had gotten a letter to her first informing her of what had happened and warning her of the obvious danger. She had written back, her letter having reached them four days into the New Year which was impressive considering the heavy snows that lay on the Border. She had told his lover that yes, her friend Susanna Graham half-sister to the current earl had indeed been Jamie's mother, but that that lady had never said the name of his father and had died not long after the boy's birth. She had also told him about Mr. Buchanan and Mr. Barnes and, being his mother, had gone into rather too much detail about threesomes and.... other stuff. Poor Jamie had dropped the letter and had been shaking!

Despite being almost as perturbed as his lover, Stephen had to admire his mother's guile in using her own openness to dissuade Jamie from looking into the matter any further. She had also taken the opportunity of her letter to him to go into detail about what she and Stephen's father had been up to of late and.... seriously, at their ages? The nobleman sensed that the soldier was dubious about what he had been told regarding his origins but he seemingly had no way of taking matters further, which was a relief.

There had also been a moment of humour as Luke had asked to read 'Granny's letter' (Stephen reflected wryly that if he ever called her that to her face, he himself would soon after be minus one son!), and in a moment of badness he had let him. His son was still scowling at him a week on!

He had a bad feeling however that his lover's royal past was, unlike the late Prince Henry Frederick, not safely dead and buried. Sooner or later the truth would out.

MDCXXXVIII

Indeed it would.

MDCXXXVIII

**February 1638**   
**Wormit, Fifeshire, SCOTLAND**

“Are these reports true, do you think?”

Jamie looked up, clearly not having heard him.

“What?” he asked.

“The reports about people who refuse to sign this National Covenant being refused entry to their local church”, Stephen said patiently. “Are they true?”

Lord Balmerino had been round earlier and had asked both men to sign the document which pledged Scots to defend their kirk against all its enemies. There was also a pledge of loyalty to the king but when those two clashed as it now seemed inevitable that they would, neither man had the least doubt as to which one their fellow countrymen would choose to back.

“Probably”, Jamie sighed. “We need new guns.”

Stephen blinked at the sudden change of subject.

“Why?” he asked. “I thought that you said they were still useless on the battlefield.”

“That is the old matchlock rifles”, Jamie said. “Having to keep a slow-burning match lit during a battle with gunpowder all over the place is pretty daft, let alone the fact that this is Scotland and we have a lot of that thing called rain. But the new flintlock rifles can be fired almost at once, using flints to generate the spark that ignites the powder. Still not very effective but, I think, now worth having.”

“You are already thinking of the battlefield?” Stephen asked.

His lover hesitated.

“Not so much that”, he said carefully. “You have not seen how a country changes during war, Ste. People become desperate and revert to their base natures; I was thinking rifles or perhaps carbines for when you and I are on our business around the estate.”

“Two guns will hardly stop a gang of men”, Stephen observed.

“Maybe”, Jamie said, “but unless it is a large crowd then they will know that whoever makes the first move will likely get killed and you would be surprised how large a mob that sort of thing can deter. Luke should be trained up in one too when he is older, though he must keep his sword and dagger practice up.”

Stephen shuddered at the thought of his son in battle, and Jaime quickly crossed the room to sit with him in his chair. They remained there in silence as the fire flickered amid the grey winter gloom.

MDCXXXVIII

**March 1638**   
**Wormit, Fifeshire, SCOTLAND**

“Well, it has happened”, Jamie sighed. “The Swedes have signed a formal treaty with the French, as if that will come as a surprise to anyone. And they feel confident enough to join the dash for North America; Queen Christina has sanctioned a group of settlers to head for the lands¹ north of the king's new Maryland Province. Not a smart move.”

“Why?” Stephen asked.

“Because the Dutch are ensconced close by”, Jamie said, “and while they share common enemies just now there is nothing to stop their colonists from knocking seven bells out of each other.”

Stephen nodded. The two men had crossed to Dundee the day before and ordered four of the new guns; the gunsmith had said that they were a bit less reliable than matchlocks but, of course, much more practical. Jamie had told his lover that they should be seen around the estate using the guns so that word would get around that they were well-armed; Stephen was sure that the two of them were well-liked by their tenants but he appreciated that these were dangerous times. And thanks to that idiot far away in London, they were likely to get even more dangerous.

MDCXXXVIII

**April 1638**   
**Wormit, Fifeshire, SCOTLAND**

This was, Stephen thought with what was definitely not a smile, a scene replicated in families up and down the British Isles. Except that here the roles were reversed somewhat.

“Well?” Luke demanded, folding his arms as he stared at the two of them. “What have you got to say for yourselves?”

It was getting harder not to smile, but luckily Jamie broke.

“It was my thirtieth birthday”, he said, “and that is one of those that even men of our great age celebrate. Your father was just giving me..... a present.”

“I know exactly what my father was giving you, Uncle Jamie!” the boy snapped, glaring at him. “Like a fool I went to your room to ask you about my lessons only to hear..... That!”

Stephen coughed to hide a laugh, but still earned himself a glare from his son.

“You will have someone of your own one day”, Jamie said diffidently. “And when you do, you will understand that you will do anything to make them happy.”

“No details!” the boy said firmly. “Honestly, it is a wonder I have grown up so normal with you two as an example. Straighten your kilt, father.”

Stephen did so, taking advantage of the instruction to turn away and allow himself a small smile.

“Look on the bright side”, Jamie grinned.

 _”What_ bright side?” Luke demanded testily.

“It is your father's thirtieth birthday next week”, Jamie went on. “So you will know not to come too near the room then.”

Never mind a flintlock, Stephen thought; they should just direct his son's glare at an enemy and they would likely drop down dead!

MDCXXXVIII

**May 1638**   
**Wormit, Fifeshire, SCOTLAND**

It was just over a week later when what was left of Stephen limped into the dining-room to find one damnably unaffected lover sat there smirking far too loudly, and one very red-faced son.

“What?” Stephen asked, then winced as his head ached.

“Luke here remembered that it was your birthday and kept clear of our room”, Jamie grinned. “Unfortunately he forgot that you had given all the staff May Day off to attend the fair down in St. Andrew's and went to the kitchen for an early morning snack. Where Fraser was marching around with Chatton impaled on his great...”

“Any chance of putting me up adoption, father?”

Stephen smiled, then winced. Even smiling hurt, damnation!

MDCXXXVIII

_Notes:_   
_1) New Sweden; the first settlement was Christina near modern Wilmington DE, joined later by Finland (Marcus Hook PA), Upland (Chester PA), Tequirassey (Eddystone PA), Mölndal (Yeadon PA), Sveaborg (Swedesboro NJ), New Stockholm (Bridgeport NJ) and Ammansland (Darby PA). The colony covered the area around Philadelphia but that city was only founded in 1682, eight years after England acquired the area from the Dutch who had ousted the Swedes in 1655._

MDCXXXVIII


	5. A Pyrrhic Victory

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The king makes his choice of a nobleman to deal with the Scottish crisis that he himself has created, and of course chooses badly. Worse, despite some legal jiggery-pokery (fraud) his assured triumph in the Hampden Case turns out to be only a narrow victory and far from making the cash roll in, the effect is to only stiffen opposition. Luke meanwhile still has the most embarrassing adults in the world to try to cope with, but he has not murdered them.   
> Yet.....

**May 1638**   
**Wormit, Fifeshire, SCOTLAND**

It was a few days later and Stephen was just about recovered from his birthday celebrations when he received the news. He stared at it curiously, but when he relayed it to his lover Jamie did not seem so surprised.

“Hamilton¹ was really the only choice”, his lover said. “The king had to appoint someone as a Commissioner to sort this mess out, and who else is there? Roxburgh was the only other possibility but he is far too young, as well as being hot-tempered.”

“You think Hamilton a bad choice?” Stephen asked.

Jamie grinned.

“For the king, aye”, he said. “For us, no by a country mile! He is a schemer, probably liked by the king because both are the sort who could leave the carriage behind you and yet still be in your seat in the church when you got there.”

"Yet he is close to the throne", Stephen said, "which makes this king liking him seem strange. Indeed he is next in line to the Scottish throne after the king's family, although I suppose with so many of them now that is less of a danger than it might have been."

“Probably because he is one of those yes-men the king prefers”, Jamie said. “Not suitable for sending here, because we all know that his master never honours a concession except at sword-point.”

“True” Stephen sighed. 

“His first problem will be the bishops”, Jamie said. “Now that Montrose has joined Rothes in leading the Covenanters, they will fasten into something that people can rally against. I suspect that it will be the bishops who this king's father forced on us with a promise that the son went and broke.”

“The likes of Spottiswoode have done little to win public support”, Stephen admitted. “Yes, I think that you are right.”

“I usually am”, his lover grinned.

Stephen just rolled his eyes at the rogue.

MDCXXXVIII

**May 1638**   
**Wormit, Fifeshire, SCOTLAND**

“I admit, even I was surprised”, Jamie said. “Hamilton brought nothing more than the 'generous' suspension of the prayer-book – as if any minister who values his life would dare use it! – along with an equally 'generous' offer that if we bend the knee immediately, we can trust in the king's good grace not to take any actions against us. I would sooner trust in the devil!”

“I think that the Bishop of Brechin² showed the king's weaknesses more than well enough last year”, Stephen agreed. “Trying to read from the book while pointing a pair of pistols at his congregation, then reportedly being surprised when they laid in wait and nearly killed him. That and his bullying ways; little wonder that he has fled to England.”

They were interrupted by the arrival of Luke, who stormed into the room looking less than happy. Stephen was on his alert at once, especially as his lover had that innocent look on his face that never bore well.

All right, it usually bore well for Stephen in one sense but so not the time for those sort of thoughts!

“What is it, son?” he asked carefully.

“This _person!”_ Luke almost spay out, “told me that as part of my training I was to walk to Mac's and return before darkness, and I was to bring back something he had left there for me.”

Stephen was confused, though he noted that Jamie was openly smirking.

“So?” he asked.

“So”, the boy ground out, “it turned out to be a knapsack full of lead weights! That some bastard had ridden over there with yesterday, damn the villain!”

“Getting you fit to fight”, Jamie said diffidently. “It is all good for you, Luke. A healthy mind and a healthy body.”

“After having to walk along that excuse for a road with that weight on my back, there is not much left of me for it to be good for”, the boy grumbled. “Adults! Why do you all have to be so..... you!”

Jamie snickered shamelessly, and Stephen bit back a smile as his son stormed off.

MDCXXXVIII

**May 1638**   
**Wormit, Fifeshire, SCOTLAND**

“This Ship Money case seems to have been going on for ever”, Jamie said as they sat outside on a particularly warm day. The Tay sparkled in the distance and the whole setting was almost eerily quiet.

The calm before the storm, Stephen thought wryly.

“Humphrey Davenport has moved the case up to the full Court of Exchequer Chamber”, he said. “Vithar, Thor's and Baldur's brother, is training to be a lawyer in London and he wrote to me about it; he said that that only happens when the king thinks that he would have lost in the lower court.”

“I thought all the judges were on his side?” Jamie asked, surprised.

“Vithar says that two of them might have felt compelled to vote against the king on some technical point³”, Stephen said. “Moving the case to where there are more 'tame' judges ensures a victory, but it will not be the resounding victory our un-esteemed monarch expects, or so he says. He reckons it will be at best nine to three in the king's favour, and that of course will make even more people oppose the tax out in the country.”

“The king degrades the law as well as himself in this”, Jamie sighed.

“Vithar says that St. John⁴ is heading Hampden's defence and making an excellent job of it”, Stephen went on. “As well as the argument about the legality of the king's move he has widened it to show that by declaring an emergency in such a way, the king could use the law to destroy any man if the mood took him. No man's property would be safe under such an interpretation of the law.”

Jamie whistled appreciatively.

“Clever “, he said. “Even his tamest judges will know full well that this king would indeed do just such a thing. He is surely heading for a fall – and many in Scotland will cheer when it happens, me included!”

MDCXXXVIII

**June 1638**   
**Wormit, Fifeshire, SCOTLAND**

“Oh come on!”

Jamie looked at his lover in surprise.

“Has the Ship-Money case finished?” he asked. “Surely not?”

Stephen shook his head.

“Just when we thought that he could not be any more stupid, the king has gone and granted all Kintyre to Young Randy⁵!”

Jamie looked at his friend in amusement.

“You forget that my knowledge of Scots who spend all their time in England is limited”, he said. “Who is 'Young Randy', pray?”

“The Earl of Antrim”, Stephen said. “The young buck who married Buckingham's widow, some fifteen years his senior. An unusual woman; one of the few at the late king's court not to have been in some scandal or other; it was said to be a love-match despite the age. He is said to be an agreeable nincompoop, but little more.”

Jamie nodded.

“I can place him now”, he said. “A scion of the MacDonalds who used to hold Kintyre before Lorne put an end to their piratical ways. That is bad. What the blazes was the king thinking, giving away the title to his lands like that when he needs every friend he has up here?”

“I suppose that legally the peninsula is still MacDonald territory”, Stephen mused, “but Lorne has held it for years now. And its position to within a dozen miles of the Irish coast, let alone guarding the approaches to his Argyll homelands – he would never surrender it.”

“Lorne has not signed the Covenant yet”, Jamie pointed out. “I know that Balmerino is worried about that, but as long as the old earl is alive and in England then Charles Stuart has that hold over his son. He could make the transfer of the title difficult and knowing him he might do just that.”

“Our neighbour will be overjoyed at this, then”, Stephen said. “The king has played right into our hands and given Scotland's greatest nobleman just the pretext that he needs to come out against him.”

MDCXXXVIII

**July 1638**   
**Wormit, Fifeshire, SCOTLAND**

“I do not get it”, Luke said plaintively. “I would have thought that seven votes to five was a victory for the king.”

“I am sure that your father gets it!” Jamie said slyly, giving Stephen a knowing look.

The nobleman blushed, but was saved by his son giving his lover a most disapproving look.

“Concentrate, Uncle Jamie!” he said sharply. “You can do That when I have had time to get myself safely out of hearing distance. Or at least let me get the ear-plugs in this time!”

Jamie blushed at the reproof and Stephen snorted in laughter.

“What Jamie means is that it is all about expectations, son”, he said. “Everyone expected the king to win massively in this; after all he selects the judges and he has got rid of several whom he did not like. Yet five out of twelve voted against him in the most important test of strength to date, even if two of them only did so on a technicality. The people will see it as a defeat for him, really.”

“Why will they, Uncle Jamie?”

All this time, Stephen thought, and his lover was still affected by the appellation.

“Because as your father said, people see that the king rigged the court and they will think that he only won because of that”, the soldier said. “I would wager that when news reaches them of the result, those resisting Ship-Money will only dig in even more. And the king needs that money for the army he will soon try to raise against us.”

“I would rather you did not wager such a thing, either of you”, Luke sighed.

“Why?” Jamie asked, clearly nonplussed.

The boy fixed him with an azure stare.

“Do not think that I am not fully aware of your 'wagers' with my poor father, Uncle Jamie”, he said. “When he sits down to breakfast muttering that he will never bet with you again, yet a few weeks later he is doing exactly the same? You two are terrible!”

“We are”, Jamie agreed blithely. “But you are stuck with us, I am afraid.”

“Do I not know it!” the boy said fervently.

MDCXXXVIII

_Notes:_   
_1) James Hamilton, Marquess of Hamilton (b. 1606). His mother was Lady Anne Cunninghame (b. circa 1580); we will be meeting her later. Her son was a schemer but, unfortunately for the king, a bad one. As of 2021 the current Duke of Hamilton, James Douglas-Hamilton (b. 1978) is a direct descendant of theirs._   
_2) Walter Whitford (b. 1581). Charles helped him out by giving him a living in England while in exile but he lost it at the end of the First Civil War and died in poverty soon after (1647)._   
_3) Vithar was right. A technical error in the writ served on Hampden would have compelled Davenport to rule against the king, who would have lost his case. Hence it was moved to a court where he would win because who could possibly suspect this king of double-dealing..... oh.  
 _4) Oliver St. John (b. 1598). A brilliant if taciturn lawyer, this was the same year that he made his second marriage to one Elizabeth Cromwell, cousin to Oliver. Later he was the member of parliament for Totnes in Devonshire. His surname is pronounced like it looks; only as Christian names or in hyphenated surnames is it pronounced 'sinjun'.  
 _5) Randall MacDonnell (b. 1609). A charming incompetent, so naturally one of King Charles's best buds. His ancestral lands which were in a permanent mess lay in Antrim, barely twelve miles from the Kintyre Peninsula and in part of the world that had not only recently been settled by Scottish Presbyterians encouraged by the late King James. These were also the core of the ancient kingdom of Dalriada, whose warriors had crossed the North Channel and founded Scotland over a millennium ago. Randy had no children but the title survived through his brother Alexander and as of 2021 the current Earl Alexander (b. 1935) is a direct descendant of his.___

____

MDCXXXVIII


	6. Faith And Fifteen Minutes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Young Luke has learned his lessons from his Uncle Jamie well – possibly too well? There are two more additions to the family, another addition to England's colonial possessions, and the king comes up with a seemingly clever way to outmanoeuvre the Covenanters – but will it work?

**July 1638**   
**Wormit, Fifeshire, SCOTLAND**

Jamie looked across at his lover in surprise.

“News from Oxfordshire already?” he asked. “I did not think that Anne was due for next month – unless Bren has somehow contrived to get Thor pregnant!”

“As I said, you would be the first man to achieve that through me”, Stephen sighed. “No, although it is from Thor. He says that Edgar has been approached to see how quickly he could raise a force of men 'if the need arises'.”

“If as in when”, Jamie said. “No sign of the countess, I hope?”

“She has been reported as having gone abroad”, Stephen said. “One hopes in a leaky ship.”

“Miaow!”

“I would be nicer to the man who will be fucking your brains out ten minutes from now.”

“Can you make that fifteen, Uncle Jamie?”

The soldier jumped violently. Luke was standing right behind him.

“I did not hear you come in”, he said.

“Then those lessons you gave me on stealth evidently worked”, the boy said. “I know how to be very quiet - _unlike some people that I could mention!”_

“I shall tell Fraser and Chatton to keep it down in future”, Jamie said, blithely misunderstanding him. “Meanwhile I shall be keeping it up....”

“Father, please tell me that I can disown him!”

Stephen chuckled at his son's annoyance.

“Sorry Luke”, he said. “We are stuck with him, I am afraid.”

“Then I am going out for another walk”, Luke said firmly. “This summer is one of the best yet and I want to make the most of it. In fact, I think I may make it a run, from the way Uncle Jamie is looking just now.”

He left swiftly. Stephen chuckled – until he saw the look on his lover's face. 

Oh.

MDCXXXVIII

It was worth the disapproving looks that Stephen got from his son at dinner, even if sitting down was.... difficult. And why were the dining-room chairs so hard all of a sudden?

MDCXXXVIII

**July 1638**   
**Wormit, Fifeshire, SCOTLAND**

“I shall be able to reduce the rents if this keeps up”, Stephen said contentedly. “Our third good summer in a row once the harvest is safely gathered in.”

“You can never tell with our weather”, Jamie agreed. “A late storm could still wreck all, though this weather seems set fair. It is good that the people are happy for now.”

Stephen looked across at him.

“You speak as if you expect that not to last”, he said. “Why?”

“I remember my time in the German wars”, Jamie said, his face clouding over. “One tactic used by both sides what was they called 'scorched earth'; deliberately removing all food from an area so the opposing army could not cross it. Despite the mess he is making of England it is still likely that this excuse for a king will be able to raise a larger army than we can, and our commanders may feel pressed to do that to the Borders.”

“And even if they do not, we will need food for our own army”, Stephen agreed. “I will set up an extra granary just in case. We are lucky to be so far off the track for any armies – unless they are totally lost!”

“Was there any news in your letter earlier?” Jamie asked. 

The nobleman nodded.

“The Spanish have defeated the Dutch at a place called Kallo”, he said. “Frederick Henry will be reluctantly weighing the pros and cons of allowing the French into the southern Netherlands, knowing full well that once they are in he will likely never get them out!”

“Like when I stick the mighty Buckmaster into you”, Jamie grinned, “and it is so big I have trouble getting it out!”

Stephen just rolled his eyes at the saucy fellow who.... who was looking at him in that way again. Honestly, the fellow was insatiable!

Praise the Lord!

MDCXXXVIII

**August 1638**   
**Wormit, Fifeshire, SCOTLAND**

“Hamilton is definitely up to something”, Jamie observed. “He has been closeted with his legal men ever since he got here.”

“Balmerino told me that the Covenanters have men watching his lands in Clydesdale south of Glasgow, just in case he tries to get his men there to come and support him”, Stephen said. “If the king had any sense he would be rowing back from that dratted prayer-book as that would take the wind out of the rebels' sails, but he is too stubborn to do such a sensible thing.”

“He is God's man on earth”, Jamie sighed. “God cannot be wrong, so neither can he.”

“Great Elizabeth thought that she was God's chosen for the throne as well”, Stephen pointed out. “But she had the sense to see that she had to work to keep her position, to stick with deals once she made them, and to never let things get out of hand. The God's chosen thing she kept to religious matters.”

“There was the Northern Rising”, Jamie pointed out.

“Which was caused largely by the presence of her idiot cousin Mary Queen of Scots”, Stephen countered. “And that was when she showed she was Henry The Eighth's daughter all right, hanging seven hundred rebels from the seven hundred villages they had marched from to oppose her. They did not try it again! This king is lazy, and thinks that God will do all the work for him including making sure that he wins in the end. So why should he lift a finger to do anything himself?”

“If God was behind the choice of that slippery Hamilton”, Jamie said, “then even I might begin to question the Good Lord!”

MDCXXXVIII

**August 1638**   
**Wormit, Fifeshire, SCOTLAND**

“Baldur has hit the jackpot again”, Stephen smiled a few days later. “Anne has given birth to twins, a boy and a girl. They are to be called Lothur and Frigga.”

“I suppose Bren has written”, Jamie grinned, “because Baldur is still sobbing his heart out while Thor is a sexual wreck.”

“Cynic!” Stephen said reprovingly.

His lover quirked an eyebrow at him. Stephen sighed.

“All right, they both are”, he admitted. “Thor is taking Bren to London 'when he can walk again' – the fellow is a sex maniac! - on business and pleasure. Mostly the latter, he hopes.”

“Some men these days are complete horn-dogs”, Jamie agreed. “Sex?”

Stephen shook his head at him.

“You have another lesson with Luke in half an hour”, he pointed out.

“I can be quick!”

“Down, boy!” Stephen smiled. “Is Luke still wanting us to buy him a gun?”

To his surprise, his lover blushed at that.

“What?” the nobleman asked.

“I explained that he needed a set mass to cope with the recoil when firing a gun”, he said. “He would have to wait until he was sixteen at least.”

That did not seem particularly odd, or at least no reason why his lover suddenly looked so awkward.

“And?” Stephen pressed.

“He just accepted it”, Jamie said, blushing. “When he said 'I trust you, Uncle Jamie', I felt all.....”

He trailed off, clearly embarrassed. Stephen bit back a smile but said nothing. For all that he was a magnificent lover and a brilliant soldier, his lover was such a sap at times.

MDCXXXVIII

**September 1638**   
**Wormit, Fifeshire, SCOTLAND**

“Another new colony in the Americas”, Stephen said as he read the letter from his elder brother. “They are calling it New Haven¹ and it will be a town planned out from the very start. It seems rather too close to the Dutch on Hudson's island, though.”

“They are too busy with the Spanish now”, Jamie said, “and by the time that is sorted I dare say that our colonists will have the numbers on theirs.”

Stephen looked at him curiously.

“You seem distracted”, he said. “Is something wrong?”

“Very!” Jamie sighed. “Hamilton has persuaded the king to re-issue the Confession of Faith.”

The nobleman stared at him in confusion.

“What is that?” he asked. 

“It was a document signed by the young King James back in 1580, before he came of age”, he said, “setting out Scotland's commitment to Calvinism and the Church of Knox.”

Stephen thought for a moment but could not see it.

“What is the problem, then?” he asked.

“It is a damnably cunning way to undermine the Covenant, that is the problem!” Jamie said. “The Confession is similar in a lot of ways but there is one key difference; it says nothing about bishops so allows the king to keep them in power. And to keep their votes in the Estates².”

“Another move that is legal but will be seen as a dodge”, Stephen said. “What can we actually do to stop it, though? People in some parts, particularly the Borders and Moray, are already unhappy with the Covenant. Rejecting what will be seen as a conciliatory gesture by the king will only drive them further away from us.”

“Hamilton wants the Confession read out in Stirling and Edinburgh”, Jamie said. “We shall soon see; he is having it done next week presumably thinking that we will not be ready. We will be ready.”

MDCXXXVIII

_Notes:_   
_1) A town that could have grown to rival the likes of Boston further up the coast. Unfortunately the first ship that they sent back to England with goods for sale was lost and that permanently set them back. Its colony was merged into Connecticut in 1664._   
_2) The Scottish parliament. It consisted of four main elements; nobility, gentry, burghers and clerics. This was why Charles's reneging on his late father's promise not to promote the bishops to government positions was so important; he had used their influence to try to control the Estates called for his coronation back in 1633 so the Covenanters were doubly determined to destroy the bishops to stop him from doing it again._

MDCXXXVIII


	7. Glorious Ends

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> King Charles is shocked that the Scottish barons, far from accepting his perfectly legal legerdemain, resort to their own legerde....bare-faced cheating to frustrate his plans, something that he himself would never have done (shut up!). Luke proves to have rather good hearing and an attempt to end a meeting of the Estates ends ingloriously for the Marquis of Hamilton. But as Jamie would say, he can always advise on glorious ends – especially that of his lover!

**September 1638**   
**Edinburgh, Midlothian, SCOTLAND**

Luke walked slowly back from the window, looking visibly relieved.

“I see why you got us a place well out of it, father”, he said. 

“Thankfully there was no riot”, Jamie said, “but Traquair now has yet more bad news to tell his master. If he listens that is; I hear that Brechin and some of the other bishops who were forced to flee are trying to turn the king against him.”

They had come to the capital as planned and, also as planned, the king's heralds had turned up at the Mercat Cross¹ to read out the king's invitation to his subjects to sign the Confession of Faith – only for a Covenanter mob to assemble before them and shout them down, demanding their own covenant and no other. Stephen suspected that his lover was right in that this would likely alienate people in those parts of Scotland which had been coolest towards the Covenant and would see this as the rejection of a royal olive-branch, but then as Jamie had also said, anyone who believed that could probably be sold that bridge over to the New World!

“What will happen now, Uncle Jamie?” Luke asked.

“The king will call an Assembly”, Jamie said, “thinking that they will do what he wants and accept the Confession.”

“But he will fail?” Luke asked.

“He will fail”, Jamie agreed. “I know for a fact that Balmerino, Argyll as he is now and their friends are already busy securing seats among the gentry and burghers, and even though the king has his bishops many of them have fled. No, I am afraid that we are headed towards war whether we like it or not.”

“As he is now?” Stephen put in, surprised.

“Aye”, Jamie said. “It was in the news-sheet this morn; his errant father has passed so he has the title in name as well as in deed now. There goes the one possible hold the king had over him.”

“Why do they call it the Covenant, Uncle Jamie?” Luke asked.

It maybe just possibly annoyed Stephen that his son turned to often to his lover as the fount of all knowledge. Almost as much as a certain personage's knowing smirk as he was thinking that!

Jamie chuckled.

“See the rainbow stretching back to the Forth?” he said.

“Yes?”

“It comes from the Bible, when God had flooded the Earth and destroyed all Mankind save Noah and those he had with him in the Ark”, the soldier explained. “The Lord made a covenant with him afterwards, swearing never to do it again; the rainbow was a sign of His word. Today the term is used for certain legal documents that are important, and few are more important than this one.”

“But the people say that they are fighting for the king”, Luke said, clearly puzzled. “How can they be both for and against him?”

“You have to go far back in history for that”, Jamie said. “It was often thought – and Charles Stuart still thinks it – that as God's representative kings could do no wrong, so when they did do wrong they were clearly getting bad advice. A polite fiction but a dangerous one.”

“Why dangerous?” the boy pressed.

“Because what is to be done when the bad advisors are all removed yet the king carries on just as before?” Jamie said. “Then the only solution is to get rid of the king and replace him with someone else.”

“There is no-one else”, Stephen put in. “Charles Stuart is raising his children in his image, Lord help them, so they would not be accepted if somehow he was compelled to abdicate. And that might untie the knot that holds England and Scotland together; the next heir in England is Charles Louis while in Scotland it is Hamilton.”

“Who is Charles Louis, Uncle Jamie?”

Stephen did not seethe in annoyance. _And someone's smirk was getting even more annoying!_

“The king's nephew, the eldest surviving son of his sister Elizabeth”, Jamie said, smiling far too knowingly for a man who wanted to get laid (or do some laying) any time soon. “A bit of a wastrel from what I hear of him although it must be hard to be ruler of a country that someone else controls; a king without a crown and forever reliant on the charity of others. His relationship with the king is also difficult; his uncle funds him because of his mother but he also resents him as a Lutheran and a possible rival. As I have told you before, the Stuarts do not take kindly to rivals.”

“It is all very complicated”, Luke sighed. “Will I get some new clothes while we are here, Father?”

Stephen was more than a little offended that he only got turned to for money, _and that smirk was getting even worse!_

“Possibly”, he said. “I have a lot to do while we are here.”

“Hopefully not That again”, his son said, much to his embarrassment. “We all know the real reason that you were both late when it came to leaving home.”

“We are not that bad, Luke”, Jamie smiled.

“Should I mention the incident at breakfast the other day?" the boy asked pointedly. “I hardly think that you were 'looking for something under the table'!”

Both men blushed.

MDCXXXVIII

**November 1638**   
**Wormit, Fifeshire, SCOTLAND**

“Well, if Hamilton did not know what he was up against before, he surely knows it now”, Jamie smiled as they lay together that morning. It had been Guy Fawkes's Night the day before and Stephen had paid for him staff to have an evening in Dundee enjoying the bonfire and feast there. And Luke had, on being told of this, told him that he was removing himself to the furthest wing of the house 'for my own sanity'.

Stephen still did not think that they were that bad. Although after last night he was barely capable of thinking anything!

“I thought that the Assembly was not due to meet until the twenty-first?” he said, quite proud that he could still manage a whole sentence.

Jamie eyed him lasciviously, and Stephen's newfound confidence bolted for the door.

“It is”, the soldier said, running a hand up the nobleman’s naked chest and doing things with his nipples that blew what little was left of his mind. “But the elections are happening already and Hamilton is seeing the royal candidates go down like skittles.”

“He still has the bishops, though”, Stephen pointed out, his eyes watering at his lovers ministrations.

“Not for long”, Jamie countered. “The first business of the Assembly will be to charge the bishops with sedition; as you know an accused man cannot sit. They will then set about undoing all the king's reforms and those of his late father.”

“Argyll is definitely supporting the Covenant now, then?” Stephen asked.

“He has not come out openly”, Jamie admitted, “but this Kintyre grant has made him mad and he was already warned Hamilton that if MacDonnell tries anything then he will fight back with everything that he has. It will be more effective if he joins us during the Assembly; another blow which will doubtless astonish the king.”

MDCXXXVIII

**November 1638**   
**Wormit, Fifeshire, SCOTLAND**

“Hamilton was totally caught out”, Jamie grinned. “The bishops banned and hardly a voice raised in his support; apparently the Aberdeen lot that he was counting on claimed that they were too scared to venture out of their city.”

“I cannot help but feel that such tactics will rebound on us someday”, Stephen sighed.

“Jus in bello”, Jamie grinned. “In war, anything goes; it hardly behoves this king of all people to complain about such tactics. And war is what we shall have once he hears that for some reason the Good Lord is as of yet failing to oblige him.”

MDCXXXVIII

**November 1638**   
**Wormit, Fifeshire, SCOTLAND**

Stephen smiled at the latest letter that he had received from his contact in Glasgow.

“Hamilton finally snapped and said that he was formally closing the Assembly”, he told Jamie. “Of course they all ignored him and carried on so he decided to make a glorious end of it by storming out. Unfortunately someone had locked the door so he had to wait for his servants to break the door down!”

“That just about sums this king up”, Jamie said. 

“And that tipped Argyll over the edge”, Stephen went on. “Hamilton expected him to follow him out – well, once he had got the door open! – but instead the fellow stood up and said that contrary to what his fellow nobleman had claimed, he deemed it a lawful Assembly and would stay to see justice done.”

“The king will hit the roof when he hears that”, Jamie said. “And he will not be able to link it to that stupid Kintyre grant earlier in the year, because he will not allow anyone at court who might tell him some unpleasant truths. I am sure that that was another reason he was keen on Wentworth going to Ireland; we know that as a Yorkshireman, subtlety is not his strongest suit.”

“Like modesty is not yours!” Stephen quipped.

Jamie looked at him, they glanced in the direction of their bedroom. Stephen sighed; his lover was frankly.... why was he still sat here thinking about it?

MDCXXXVIII

**December 1638**   
**Wormit, Fifeshire, SCOTLAND**

The news reached them two days before Christmas. Having indeed undone every since religious reform since the Union of the Crowns, the Glasgow Assembly had finally dissolved itself having placed the country firmly in Covenanter hands. True, the outlying areas like Moray and the Borders might be less keen on the new order but their leaders were divided and they were few in number. Stephen agreed with Jamie that next year would see the king in Scotland with an army – _if_ he could raise one.

That, as Jamie said, was a big 'if'. Though not as big as some things. And he moved swiftly to prove his point.

It was worth his son's eye-roll the following day, Stephen thought, although he was definitely looking into some better cushions as a present to himself this Yuletide. Or at least to his arse!

MDCXXXVIII

_Notes:_   
_1) Scots English for Market Cross. First mentioned in 1365, it had been moved to its then site in 1619. It was demolished and partially re-erected by a local landowner in his own house; in 1885 a replica was erected close to the site of the one that Jamie and Stephen saw. This was paid for by British prime minister William Gladstone who was the member of parliament for Midlothian, the county that includes Edinburgh._

MDCXXXVIII


	8. Hair Today, Gone Tomorrow

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> January-March 1639.   
> The king tries to assemble an army to take down the Scots but is astonished to find that after a decade of annoying the crap out of the English gentry, they are for some strange and inexplicable reason not that eager to help him. How bizarre! Meanwhile Stephen is living with a couple of devious bastards and to cap it all he has to cope with Jamie's departure for battle. As well as.... gulp!..... Feelings!

**January 1639**   
**Wormit, Fifeshire, SCOTLAND**

It was fortunate that Jamie was talking to Luke as he entered the room, and so missed his lover's scowl. Damnation; Stephen had not thought it possible!

“You shaved off your new moustache, then?” he said as casually as he could, ignoring his son's barely-concealed smirk.

“Aye, Luke did not like it”, Jamie said diffidently. “Or he mentioned it, I asked him what he thought and he said that if I wanted it that badly then that was all right.”

“Whatever Uncle Jamie does is all right by me”, Luke said, still far too close to a smirk for his father's liking.

“That and he went outside then asked Fraser why some men thought having a caterpillar on their upper lip was a good thing”, Jamie grinned. “So I got rid of it. Coming for your lesson, Luke?”

“I just have to tell father something”, the boy said. “I will be there soon, Uncle Jamie.”

The soldier nodded and ruffled the boy's hair affectionately before leaving. The door was barely shut before Stephen sighed heavily.

“All right”, he grumbled, digging out a couple of coins. “You win. I really did not think that he would get rid of the dratted thing just because you asked him to.”

“Never underestimate the power of the teenage judgemental look”, Luke grinned, taking the coins. “Thank you, Father. I am off to my lessons.”

Stephen shook his head at the annoying smart-arse but sighed and went back to his book.

MDCXXXIX

He might have been even more annoyed had he witnessed the scene that played out not that far away a few moments later. Jamie grinned as Luke came out to his lesson.

“Well?” he asked.

“Easiest money either of us will ever make!” Luke grinned back. “I told you that he hated moustaches!”

He handed the soldier one of the coins. Jamie chuckled.

“Well, bear in mind what I do with just stubble...”

“I can take your winnings back!” the boy said quickly. “And no future deals unless there is also no oversharing.”

“But does not the Bible say to share things amongst all men?” Jamie asked with what was obviously fake innocence.

“Not that!” Luke said fervently. “Not unless you want me scarred for life!”

MDCXXXIX

**January 1639**  
 **Wormit, Fifeshire, SCOTLAND**

It was a few days later and Stephen had had a letter from his elder brother. Aidan had married his Catholic bride – predictably their parents had disgraced themselves at the wedding by slipping away for reasons that were certainly not of a religious persuasion, over which his brother had been mortified if unsurprised – and Stephen was now heir (if in secret) to the Hexhamshire barony. As well as being rather too close to inheriting an Oxfordshire earldom.

“Not that I would ever really want to be a major lord”, he told Jamie when he read him the letter. “But I have to be ready to step in for young Theo in case the worst happens.”

“Has your brother had word about the king's army yet?” Jamie asked. 

Stephen nodded.

“Charles Stuart expects to be in York with an army of forty thousand by April”, he said.

“Does he also expect a throng of angels to lift said army all the way over our own and into Edinburgh?” Jamie asked wryly. “He will be lucky to get half that number.”

“That is what Adey says”, Stephen said. “The Northumberland Trained Bands were mustered in January to be ready to leave in March, but those down in Hexhamshire were few in number. He noted an amazing number of absences due to plague, illness and other calls of duty, none of which he felt inclined to follow up on.”

“They do not want to fight for a quasi-Catholic king against a fellow Protestant nation”, Jamie said shrewdly. “Let alone the Trained Bands always hate leaving their home counties.”

“The king may still get a large army”, Stephen said, “as many will enlist for the free food and clothes if not for the money; we all know that he has little in the way of spare cash. But it will be a ramshackle affair at best. I only hope that when it does square up to our own boys they will decide that free food and clothes are not worth getting killed over.”

Stephen winced. That raised a subject that he had been dreading but could not really avoid much longer.

“You have to go”, he said sadly.

“Aye”, Jamie agreed. “I am a professional soldier Ste, and though the army will have many such especially with those returning from the Continent, our men will need all the training we can get into them to make up for their lack of numbers. I am thankful in one aspect for the religious element; that will help bind them together.”

“At least you can go with plenty of grain for the men”, Stephen said. “Our last few harvests have been good ones and our granaries are full. And for those on our own estate who wish to enlist I have sworn full payment as well as looking after their dependents should the worse happen.”

“That is one of the many differences between you and Charles Stuart”, Jamie smiled. “When you say that, I and the workers know that it is true. When he says something, we all immediately wonder just how soon he will try to worm his way out of it.”

That was cynical, Stephen thought, but unfortunately all too accurate.

MDCXXXIX

**February 1639**  
 **Wormit, Fifeshire, SCOTLAND**

“Incredible!” Jamie exclaimed. “The king is at the list thing again, keeping a record of which barons and gentry fail to give him the support he thinks that he deserves in this mess of his own making, because he will obviously win it and then be in a position to exact his revenge. Just when he should be trying to win people to his side, too.”

“He is reported to be even closer to his wife, after poor Princess Catherine died just hours after entering this world”, Stephen said. “I am sorry for their loss, but this queen's open rejoicing at converting her courtiers back to the Old Faith is doing her husband no good at all, let alone his failure to take any action to stop her. Strange how that leniency never seems to get extended to his political and mostly Protestant enemies!”

Stephen's neighbour Lord Balmerino had been over earlier that day to ask that Jamie assist in the assembling of the Scots army, especially as he had excellent knowledge in the field of logistics. He had confirmed that many Scots commanders had already returned from the Continent but their skills were nearly all in combat; 'most of them would not know one end of a supply chain from the other'.

“I shall set out next month”, Jamie said quietly. “Do not worry, my love. I shall keep safe, because I have so much to come home to.”

If only it were that easy, Stephen thought.

MDCXXXIX

**March 1639**  
 **Wormit, Fifeshire, SCOTLAND**

Stephen really hoped that it was an omen, news of a major Swedish victory at some place called Chemnitz coming on the day of Jamie's departure. But he suspected that it was more likely wishful thinking on his part. The whole house turned out to see his Winter Soldier off which, while assuring him how much he was loved, meant that Stephen could not say goodbye as he had really wanted. Worse, because some of the estate men as well as the local militia were indeed going with him, he could not ride with him part of the way and make his farewells in private.

War sucked!

They kissed and embraced before going out to face the crowds, and Stephen managed to hold it together until he got back into his study where he collapsed into his chair and sobbed. For all that Jamie was confident that there would be either no battle with the Scots withdrawing and effecting a scorched earth policy if necessary, he still feared the worst. At least he had put his foot down and insisted that Chatton not go as the estate needed someone to do at least some of Jamie's chores. Fraser had come close to tears when he had told him that, which given his normal stoicism showed how much he loved the younger man. Not that Stephen had doubted that.

It was only when he went to dinner that he realized what or rather who was missing. For all that he adored his Uncle Jamie he had not seen Luke around, not even standing out with the rest of the house to see the soldier off. When the boy came in to join him, he asked him why.

“I was going to make a formal farewell just before his big send-off”, the boy said, “but I realized that he needed that time more with you. He went really red when I told him that and....”

He trailed off, clearly embarrassed.

“And what, son?” Stephen pressed.

“He said that I was the best son any man could have, and he was so glad he had a small share in my upbringing”, the boy muttered.

Stephen smiled. That was so absolutely....

“For heaven's sake Father, pass the potatoes!”

All right, Moment over. Stephen would allow himself a smirk later.

MDCXXXIX


	9. Hullo, Hullo

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> April-June 1639.   
> Stephen and his son discuss New World affairs and medieval jokes as both miss a certain soldierly presence around the house. The king decides the best thing to do with a resentful set of army leaders is to make them resent him even more, and is then amazed when two of them promptly quit. Luckily battle is (mostly) averted when he is forced to back down, which means that Jamie can return home to a quiet, dignified, restrained welcome.  
> Well, there are restraints....

**April 1639**   
**Wormit, Fifeshire, SCOTLAND**

His son, Stephen had realized, had a strange habit of giving him the sort of look that said he was about to start a subject that one or both of them would find uncomfortable in some way. Unfortunately he was doing it right now.

“I was thinking about brothers.”

Stephen looked at his son in surprise. Where had this come from?

“Not that I want one”, the boy went on hastily. “I like being an only child and.... and I think we both know that that is unlikely given the circumstances.”

Stephen smirked.

“Well, the way Jamie goes at it sometimes....”

That look could have stopped a herd of rampaging elephants!

“No details!” his son said firmly. “Or I will write to Great-Aunt Agnes and tell her that you want her to make a surprise visit! With all her stories!”

Good threat, Stephen thought. Brutal, but effective.

“So what has brought this on?” he asked.

“I was reading about a place over in the Americas called Saybrook”, Luke said, “which they say is named after its founders. It must be nice to have somewhere named after you. You have a younger brother over there do you not, sir?”

“Far over there”, Stephen agreed. “He is the sort that makes three thousand miles seem not far enough, and would make any sibling wish to be an only child! Why do you ask?”

“Uncle Jamie asked me to keep reading his political letters while he was away”, the boy said. “That one you showed me earlier about the two men with the king – are they the ones who founded this Saybrook place?”

“Well spotted” Stephen smiled. “Yes, the Say part comes from William Fiennes¹, who is Lord Saye and Sele.”

“Why does he have two titles, Father?” Luke asked.

“No-one quite knows”, Stephen said. “A cruel tutor of mine once gave me a load of books and invited me to find that out; he was trying to teach me that not all questions have answers. I hated him, by the way! There is a theory that although Sai is a place in Normandy, France, Sele may be a pun as it is an old word meaning 'hullo', like the word 'salutations'. As in 'say hullo'.”

“A medieval joke”, Luke smiled. 

“Robert Greville², Baron Brooke, is very wealthy and owns Warwick Castle, home of the famous Kingmaker”, his father went on. “He is a generation younger; in fact I think he is the same age as me.”

“Not that young then”, said some smart-arse who did not want a rise in his allowance any time soon.

“The two of them are working with John Pym and a few others on the Providence Island Company”, Stephen said, staring reprovingly at his sassy son. “That is a small island about a hundred miles off the Central American coast, far over in the western Caribbean. It is a strange venture indeed; they set it up as a place for only godly men, yet expected them to indulge in piracy against the Spanish as and when the need arose. I suppose the oceans are so large that there is the possibility the Spanish do not notice them for a while, but they have been there for nearly a decade now so that cannot last.”

“There is a lot that I do not understand”, Luke said plaintively, “and I wish that Uncle Jamie were here to explain it all to me. He is so clever.”

“I wish he were here too”, Stephen said quietly.

There was a terrible few seconds where both teetered dangerously on the edge of a Moment, before Luke spoke quickly.

“The king is married to a Frenchwoman yet Uncle Jamie says that he is trying to deal with the Spanish”, Luke said. “Why is that, do you know?”

“The Spanish used to be able to ship their gold to their armies in the Netherlands through the western part of the Holy Roman Empire and thus avoid the French”, Stephen explained. “What they call the Spanish Road. But the French have blocked that route, so the gold has to be sent by sea and is at the mercy of Dutch warships. King Philip wants to send gold and soldiers to Cornwall then have his men march across the country to pick up the ships for the shorter crossing at Dover. Also King Charles would mint his gold for him in return for a share of it. He thinks that all that money might well free him from ever having to call another parliament.”

“Will it?” Luke asked.

“It may”, Stephen conceded, “but he needs the English Navy to support Catholic Spain against our Protestant brethren in the Netherlands, and he may find that that is a bit of a stretch. Of course the queen is furious, but although he yields to her in most things he has no choice her but to go for the moneyed option.”

“It is all just a mess!” Luke said forcibly. “What stupid thing will the king do next, I wonder?”

Stephen probably should have reproved his son for that, except that he had been thinking exactly the same thing himself.

MDCXXXIX

**April 1639**  
 **Wormit, Fifeshire, SCOTLAND**

The answer to that question came but a few days later. Stephen really wished that he had been surprised, but then this was Charles Stuart.

“The king was less than pleased to find half his army without weapons and the other half absent for some reason”, Stephen told his son. “So he insisted on an oath of loyalty and demanded that every nobleman there swear it before he would march on.”

“How insulting”, Luke said. “And these are the men he wants to support him? What was he thinking?”

“Exactly”, Stephen said. “Both Saye and Brooke refused and he threw them in gaol; he let them out when the other barons protested but now they have taken their men and left him.”

“Can they do that?” Luke asked, surprised.

“The king is hoist with his own petard over such a move”, Stephen said. “He used the medieval ways of allowing barons to raise their own armies to make a national one, so he can hardly complain when they use the same rules to march their men back home again. He still has more men that we can likely raise, but Jamie seems to have been right when he said that they are very disorganized.”

“Of course Uncle Jamie is right”, Luke said firmly. “He always is.”

Stephen managed to hide a smile at his son's loyalty to his lover.

MDCXXXIX

**May 1639**  
 **Wormit, Fifeshire, SCOTLAND**

“Yes!”

Luke looked up in surprise from his place across the table from his father.

“Good news from Uncle Jamie?” he said hopefully.

“The best!” Stephen grinned. “There will be no battle. The king has backed down and opened talks.”

“What happened?” Luke asked impatiently.

Stephen quickly read the rest of his letter.

“The king's army was as things turned out roughly the same size as ours”, he said. “He seems to have relied on Hamilton to make a landing to join with Huntly³ up in Moray and Antrim to invade from the west, but Hamilton failed to make it in time and Antrim's countless thousands of Irishmen armed to the teeth turned out to be imaginary – again! The king sent a messenger into Duns, in Berwickshire, demanding that our army keep ten miles clear of the border so we immediately marched to Kelso, just a few miles from it. His forces probed our position but decided that we were too strong for him, so he has opened peace talks.”

“Have we won?” Luke asked anxiously.

“This round at least”, Stephen said. “There will be talks, everyone will pretend to be friends, then both sides will go away to start raising a second army for when the talks break down. As they inevitably will.”

“Why are you so sure of that, Father?” 

“Because the king doubtless thinks that the bishops will be let back into the Estates as part of any deal”, Stephen said. “That will never happen; the Covenanter lords would not allow it. The only danger is that some of the more extreme of the king's supporters may encourage him to try to seize our leaders when they go to him for talks, which would be a blow. Still, Jamie is safe and that is the important thing.”

“That is good news”, the boy beamed. 

“He has garnered particular praise because his clever planning enabled us to hold a much larger army than usual so far from home and put the king to flight”, Stephen said. “That was important; it is difficult for such a small country as ours to keep an army in the field for any length of time. He also says that he is looking forward to getting home and..... oh.”

Luke looked at his father curiously.

“What?” he asked. Stephen blushed fiercely.

“How much he is looking forward to…. celebrating with me”, he said, unable to look his son in the eye. 

“You two are terrible!” the boy sighed. “Honestly!”

MDCXXXIX

**June 1639**  
 **Wormit, Fifeshire, SCOTLAND**

The rest of May had seemed to drag for Stephen, and June's advent was rather ominously marked by a solar eclipse which, the nobleman knew, was a sign of ill-omen. A letter from Jamie told them that the negotiations were progressing but slowly and that the nobleman fears had been right; some at the king's side had indeed encouraged him to arrest Argyll and Rothes when they had come down for initial discussions. 

Charles Stuart's court continued to leak like a sieve, Stephen thought dryly.

The Earl of Montrose would have been expected to have joined his fellow leaders in those talks but he had been up in Moray, dealing with Huntly's rising there. After an initial setback he had won a small victory at a place called Bridge of Dee⁴; ironically it had happened the day after the Treaty of Berwick had been signed. 

Finally they got the news that both father and son had been waiting for; Jamie and his men would be back on Friday the seventeenth.

MDCXXXIX

**June 1639**  
 **Wormit, Fifeshire, SCOTLAND**

Stephen was impressed that his son, who so loved the soldier, was able to restrict himself to a manly shake of the hand while he paid off the men from his estate and promised them a feast this coming Sunday. They all left, and it was only the three of them.

“I am going over to see Mac and Mrs. Mac”, Luke said, much to Stephen's surprise.

“Do you not wish to stay and here all about my daring deeds, Luke?” Jamie asked, clearly also surprised at the boy's imminent departure.

Luke gave them both a sharp look.

“Just remember that Father has to attend that celebration feast in three days' time”, he said, wagging an admonitory finger at the soldier. “Try to leave enough of him for that, at least!”

Both men blushed as he strolled away.

“Leave enough of you?” Jamie muttered. “We will see about that, my lord!”

Stephen grinned and led the way into the house. And their bedroom.

MDCXXXIX

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _1) William Fiennes (b. 1582). A brief friendship with Buckingham had got him made a viscount but he became an opponent of the duke under Charles. He and his friend Lord Brooke instead focussed their efforts on the Providence Island colony. The state flag of Connecticut, which purchased Saybrook in 1644, derives from the town's arms. The title survives today (2020) in the form of Bill's descendant Nathaniel Fiennes (b. 1920)._   
>  _2) Robert Greville (b. 1607, so a year older than Stephen and Jamie). He was destined to meet his end in the war as he was shot dead at the siege of Lichfield Cathedral in 1643; he went down in history as arguably the first victim of sniper fire. Rob''s line later merged with that of his cousin Robert Rich, Earl of Warwick, and their modern ancestor Guy Greville (b. 1957) is Earl of Warwick and Earl Brooke._   
>  _3) George Gordon (b. 1592). The Moray area of Scotland, the large north-eastern landmass around Aberdeen, was one of two largely opposed to the Covenant, but the Marquis (Scottish spelling; the English is Marquess) of Huntly was a poor leader, beset with huge debts and generally uninspiring. However, the Covenanters having to keep armies in the north and west did weaken both their military and subsequently their negotiating position. George's line and title survive to this day (2020) in the form of the current Marquis Granville Gordon (b. 1944)._   
>  _4) A minor engagement on May 10th involving the seizing of Towie House (south of the town of Huntly) for the government led to the death of one of the servants, a David Pratt. He thus acquired a claim to be the first death in the Wars of the Three Kingdoms. Like Greville, probably not really an 'honour' he had wanted._


	10. Murder, She Did

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> July-September 1639.   
> Peace across the Border proves as much an illusion as everyone had feared, but before battle can be rejoined there is shocking news from England concerning Stephen's family – news that will ultimately change his and his lover's lives. Meanwhile the king's foreign policy contrives to prove everyone wrong by getting into an even bigger mess than it had been before.

**July 1639**   
**Wormit, Fifeshire, SCOTLAND**

Stephen moaned as he tried to get comfortable in his bed. It had been a month since his lover's return and Jamie had seemingly been intent on making up for four months (or as he called it, 'an eternity') without sex. Even the slightest movement brought a painful rebuke from his abused muscles; some days he had had to stay in their room as facing the horror that was the stairs.... no! Just no! And certain stewards plus certain sons of his really should cut with the smirking if they knew what was good for them!

He moaned again as his lover dropped casually onto the bed next to him, making him bounce up and eliciting another message of complaint from... his entire body, to be truthful. Jamie seemed to have boundless energy, alternating between his slow, sensual love-making and almost animalistic taking him, both of which had much the same effect on the nobleman. 

He was so damn lucky!

MDCXXXIX

He was also less than a month away from seeing his happy Fifeshire existence being curtailed.

MDCXXXIX

**July 1639**  
 **Wormit, Fifeshire, SCOTLAND**

There was news, from America via Northumberland. Stephen would have rolled his eyes at it but he avoided any unnecessary movement for..... reasons.

“Aidan writes that John has 'withdrawn' from his latest colony at Newport, near Providence”, Stephen sighed. “Apparently the town elders decided to admit a party of Jews who had been seeking refuge and had been refused elsewhere, to which he took grave exception.”

Jamie glanced out of the window.

“Aye, the sky is still blue”, he grinned. “No change there either.”

Stephen shook his head at his lover's sass, but even that hurt. Damnation!

MDCXXXIX

**August 1639**  
 **Wormit, Fifeshire, SCOTLAND**

Considering that James Buchanan Barnes made his living as a soldier, a profession dependent on detecting when something was amiss, he was surprisingly slow to catch on that day.

“Diana confirms that the king has asked Wentworth to come back from Ireland and try to sort out the mess he has made up here”, he said. “I think it is too late for that, though.”

Stephen was silent, reading his own letter. Jamie was surprised; his lover did not normally ignore him.

“Is something wrong?” he asked.

_”Very!”_

The soldier looked at the nobleman expectantly.

“Henry has been killed. _By his own damn mother!”_

It took a few seconds for Jamie to pin down what that meant, upon which he turned almost as pale as his lover.

“How?” he demanded. “I thought Naomi was long gone?”

“She slipped back in and took a cottage near Stalwarton”, Stephen said, his face ashen. “When the boy was walking down by the river she stabbed him!”

“Did she get away?” Jamie asked anxiously.

“That is another thing”, Stephen said, “She had as you know a friend at the queen's court, so she boasted to Edgar that she only had to write to them and the king would forbid her execution.”

She was probably right in that, Jamie thought bitterly.

“Edgar writes that, while being taken back to the hall, she tried to escape but fell in the river and drowned”, Stephen said. “I think that we both know he means 'was drowned' rather than 'drowned by accident'.”

Jamie nodded. That was yet another failing of this lame excuse for a monarch with whom the recent treaty had already broken down; those around him felt entitled to do as they liked in the knowledge that the king would always protect them. And they were right to think that – at least, while the king still had power. 

The soldier did some quick calculations and frowned.

“Edgar is what, fifty?” he asked.

“Fifty-one”, his lover said, “and after Naomi I cannot see him marrying again let alone having more children.”

Jamie knew that that meant. Earl Edgar's health had never been good, so the Bradstock earldom would devolve to his brother Ellis – Stephen's father. He would not wish to come out of retirement let alone leave his beloved Hexhamshire, and Aidan would not want to administer two separate titles as that would mean an increased danger of his Catholicism becoming public, especially with Oxford being so nearby. Which in turn meant that Stephen would be the next Earl of Bradstock, possibly even quite soon.

Hell and damnation!

“Luke cannot inherit of course, and you know as well as I do that Thor and Baldur for all they are decent fellows have not half a brain between them”, Stephen said. “Baldur's eldest, Odin, has just turned seven. It is possible that Edgar might hold on until he comes of age, but otherwise....”

Jamie nodded.

“Otherwise there is the danger that the king, even more desperate for money after his debacle against us, will scent an estate under a minor as ripe for plucking”, he said. “You would have to stay there at least until Odin's brothers and sisters came of age so you could then resign the title to him.”

“What a mess!” Stephen sighed.

MDCXXXIX

**September 1639**  
 **Wormit, Fifeshire, SCOTLAND**

At least Luke took the news better than Stephen had feared.

“So we may be moving to England”, the boy said. He was fourteen now, growing into a man who was very much the image of his father except for his blond hair, and Jamie had promised him a gun for his own on his next birthday as he would be strong enough to handle it provided he kept up with his training. “At least it will be warmer, I suppose.”

“It may well not happen”, Stephen said, “but we have to be prepared. I may well have to visit my uncle and talk with him.”

“Uncle Jamie says that the worst often happens”, Luke said, rather sententiously his father thought. “But then he knows so much.”

“Yes”, Stephen agreed. “He is knowledgeable in, ahem, so many areas.”

His son was midway through a nod when he got the innuendo there, and glared at his father.

MDCXXXIX

**September 1639**  
 **Wormit, Fifeshire, SCOTLAND**

“It is probably a good thing that the king is wrapped up in this huge second army that his English subjects will be _so_ happy to raise for him”, Jamie said a few days later. “Diana writes that the queen is less than happy with the 'drowning' of the countess and is pressing her husband to make a fuss, but he is too busy.”

“The busier he is kept the better, then”, Stephen said.

“She also says that negotiations with the Spanish are proceeding with renewed speed”, Jamie went on. “Mainly because the Spanish have sent a major supply convoy to the Netherlands and the Dutch are lying in wait for it in the Narrow Seas.”

“That lady knows everything”, Stephen sighed. 

“She probably even knows what I did to you last night!” Jamie grinned. “Nice to see that a thirty-one tear-old is that flexible, eh?”

Stephen blushed at the memory. Upside-down sex was, apparently, a thing although it had made the blood rush to his head. Well, most of it; quite a lot had still been around his lower brain!

Unfortunately his son chose that moment to enter the room, and after one look at him rolled his eyes in despair.

“Can I not leave you two alone for one minute?” he exclaimed. “You are both quite impossible!”

“Actually your father is surprisingly easy....” Jamie began.

The door slammed before he could get any further. Stephen would have smiled but his lover was looking at him in that way again....

MDCXXXIX

Meh, who needed to sit down of an evening?

MDCXXXIX


	11. Letters And Light Breezes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> October-December 1639.   
> There is news from the West Indies, the East Indies, and the English Channel where the lightest of breezes proves heavy enough for one naval commander. King Charles for once decides to not make a bad situation worse (even miracles have to happen occasionally!), there is another new family member, and Luke takes yet another impromptu and very fast walk.

**October 1639**   
**Wormit, Fifeshire, SCOTLAND**

“Father, what is a marked letter?”

Stephen looked up at his son in surprise. He had thought the boy busy working on the estate accounts which he was going through as part of his education.

“A what?” the nobleman asked, confused.

“I think he means a letter of marque”, said the resident know-all who was not getting laid (and that included doing any laying) any time soon. “Is it to do with ships, Luke?”

“Yes, Uncle Jamie”, the boy said. “I read about it over that Providence Island affair.”

“The Spanish have found out about that small settlement in what they regard as their Caribbean Sea”, Jamie explained, “and are not happy. Some years back they were attacking English merchants so the king gave the Providence Island Company a letter of marque. That licensed them to attack Spanish ships provided they did so at their own risk, and in ships that were not flying a British flag. As you might imagine the Spanish were not pleased at that, so are threatening to take the island by force.”

“That would upset the apple-cart”, Stephen said, “especially with that Spanish supply fleet trapped in the Downs.”

“Where is that, Father?” Luke asked.

“Off the Sussex coast, roughly due south of London”, Stephen said. “The Spanish have to get that money to their troops in the Netherlands, but Frederick Henry's fleet has them pinned there. The Spanish ambassador has demanded that the king send the Dutch away but he cannot, which is embarrassing for the so-called 'Sovereign of the Seas'.”

“Why can he not, Uncle Jamie?” Luke asked.

Stephen scowled at his son turning to the soldier for information, not helped by the latter's knowing smirk. If he was not so stunningly handsome and possessed of the mighty Buckmaster, then Stephen would not.... well, he would not.

_(All right, he likely would. Leave a man some pride here!)_

“He knows that while Sir John Pennington¹ may be in charge of the fleet, the sailors would likely mutiny if told to defend the Catholic Spanish against the Protestant Dutch”, Jamie said sagely. “It is a bit ironic; the king would quite like the Spanish to wipe out Providence Island but he can hardly say as much.”

“Why would he wish such a thing?” Luke asked. “There are Englishmen on it!”

“Because the principal shareholders are his enemies from the old parliament”, Jamie said. “Saye and Sele, Brooke, Pym – all men that he would happily see ruined, which they would be if the Company fails. But even this king knows saying that out loud would only give ammunition to those who claim he is thinking about becoming a Catholic as his wife so clearly wishes. There are already rumours that he has a secret alliance with King Philip; he likely does not but that is not important. What matters is that people _think_ that he does, so when he tries again for an army to march against us next year he will find out just how unpopular he really is.”

“But he will not get it”, Stephen agreed, “because someone has yet to hit him over the head with it!”

MDCXXXIX

**November 1639**  
 **Wormit, Fifeshire, SCOTLAND**

“Destroyed?”

Stephen looked at his lover in surprise. Which was not difficult as, having rocked his world for Lord knows what number of times, Jamie was currently smothered on top of him with his arms enfolding the nobleman and their noses actually touching. It was almost as if he was afraid that Stephen might make a bolt for it, like that would ever happen.

_Despite someone's annoying smirk!_

Jamie nodded and rubbed their naked bodies together. There was a piteous whine which may or may not have come from a certain nobleman.

“The Dutch took them to pieces”, the soldier said. “A few smaller ships got away but the bulk of them are now but matchwood along the Sussex coast. Also His Majesty is reportedly baffled as to why the Protestants of southern England are refusing to have Catholic soldiers billeted on them!”

“Such a mystery!” Stephen agreed, before kissing his lover gently on the lips. “What about our ships, and the great 'Sovereign of the Seas'? They were near to both fleets, were they not?”

“They were”, Jamie said, “but Pennington _claimed_ that a contrary wind prevented him from reaching the scene of destruction before it was too late.”

Stephen looked sharply at his lover.

“English ships are famed for being able to tack into the wind”, he said disbelievingly. “That excuse will never fly.”

“Even this king would not be stupid enough to try to take action against Pennington!” Jamie scoffed. “As I said, had he tried anything his sailors would surely have mutinied. No, we are well rid of this latest confusion.”

And with that he began his ministrations once more. Stephen sighed but let him have at it. Because he was generous like that.

MDCXXXIX

**November 1639**  
 **Wormit, Fifeshire, SCOTLAND**

“All right, I was wrong.”

Stephen smirked. This was a rare triumph but he was not going to milk it too much.... hell, who was he kidding?

“Say that again”, he grinned. “I did not quite hear it the first time.”

“You know I can just fuck the sass out of you?” Jamie shot back.

“You have never managed that yet, despite your efforts”, Stephen grinned. “So?”

Jamie scowled at him.

“The king did not actually prosecute Pennington”, he said.

“Semantics”, Stephen said. “He was going to obey his Spanish masters and start a prosecution, but even his tame judges told him that there was no chance of making it stick let alone the fact that London might well have rioted as a result. Now he has alienated yet another supporter, and for nothing. The Spanish will not fund his army as they have seen that his Navy cannot protect their ships in the Narrow Seas. What with Ship-Money revenues falling off a cliff he has nowhere else to turn to.”

“Argyll says that he thinks come next year, we should take the initiative and invade England”, Jamie said.

“Risky”, Stephen said at once. “The English may rise to drive us out.”

“To support a quasi-Catholic king?” Jamie said. “No, they will grumble at our presence but they share our faith and do not trust the king to do the same. Now, what did you say about me not being able to fuck the sass out of you, beloved?”

And with that he suddenly slid back to between Stephen's legs, thrust his legs back and began to work him open. The nobleman groaned but again he just went with it. Like he had any choice!

MDCXXXIX

All right, he had a choice but he chose not to have a choice. Satisfied?

MDCXXXIX

**November 1639**  
 **Wormit, Fifeshire, SCOTLAND**

The last day of the month brought a small piece of news which seemed insignificant at the time. Stephen had to open up his globe to find where it pertained to.

“Madras”, he said to Jamie once he had located it. “The East India Company² has purchased a small plot of land from a local ruler in India and are setting up Fort St. George, presumably to defend their interests against the Dutch.”

“We would do better to strike a deal with them and, like the Spanish and Portuguese did³, split the Imperial world between us”, Jamie said. “I doubt there will ever be much to be had out of India except for some exotic diseases; all the riches lie further east. Bed?”

“It is not yet noon”, Stephen pointed out.

“And?”

The nobleman sighed. Ah well, sometimes one just had to lie back and think of Scotland. Or England. Or…. it probably did not matter as soon he would unable to think of anything much.

_With any luck!_

MDCXXXIX

**December 1639**  
 **Wormit, Fifeshire, SCOTLAND**

“A letter from Oxfordshire”, Jamie observed that morning. “Good news, I hope.”

Stephen knew to what he was referring. Now only the life of his sickly cousin Edgar lay between them and the end of their comfortable existence up here; Aidan had written confirming that he would not wish to run two titles at once which meant that the two men would likely be heading south. As Jamie had said, just as the Three Kingdoms too were heading south!

His humour was not improving, worse luck!

“Good news indeed”, Stephen said. “Anne has had another son, to be called Forseti.”

“Another Norse name”, Jamie observed. “I suppose that Baldur chose it, or what is left of him after Anne has made him do his duty by her.”

To his surprise his lover hesitated for some reason.

“What is it?” the soldier asked.

“I never told you before”, Stephen admitted, “but I rather feared that Edgar's sons might never succeed him.”

“Why?” Jamie asked.

“The family is.... not exactly cursed but, you might say, bewitched”, Stephen said. “Something called the Gypsy's Blessing. Back in the fourteenth century Viscount Martin had a problem between the villagers of Stalwarton and a gypsy encampment between them and the river. Tensions rose until one day, a village boy went missing. The villagers blamed the gypsies and set their caravans on fire.”

Jamie winced.

“The daft thing was, the boy had slipped down to King's Linton to see a girl he fancied and that his father did not approve of!” Stephen said. “The viscount led the efforts to stop the fires and even went into a blazing caravan to rescue a young boy. It turned out to be the son of the camp leader, and he was so grateful he promised that the Bradstock line would never die out.”

The soldier looked at him shrewdly.

“I just know that there is a 'but' coming”, he said.

 _”However”,_ Stephen went on, ignoring his lover's scowl, “there was a condition. It so happened that no two lords had had the same name up till then, and the gypsy promised that as long as that continued, then the line would survive.”

“Then Edgar went and chose his own name and those of two previous lords of the manor for his sons”, Jamie said. “That seems out of character from what little I know of him.”

“Bren also writes that Thor is walking again”, Stephen said, “so clearly he has recovered from whatever the horn-dog did to him last time.”

“And is hopefully ready for what he will do to him next time!” Jamie grinned.

“Also that the whole south of the country has had bad storms ever since the battle, and that the nearby river is flooded”, Stephen said. “Thankfully the hall is on higher ground so it should be safe, and whatever his failings Edgar does care for his people.”

“Like you”, Jamie said. “The people are grateful for the extra coal in the run-up to Christmas, I know. I had better thank you on their behalf.”

Stephen was about to say that he did not have to when he caught the look on his lover's face. He gulped.

MDCXXXIX

A short time later Chatton grinned as he saw Luke fly down the stairs and quit the house at speed. His father was, apparently, 'busy'. Again.

MDCXXXIX

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _1) Sir John Pennington (b. 1584). His actions or lack thereof at the battle did him no favours in the long run; people remembered only that he had been in charge of the king's fleet._   
>  _2) Unlike North America which was considered not really worth the effort, national governments did move to set up companies to colonize richer areas of the world like the East and West Indies. These colonial companies often came into conflict with each other which provided excuses for national governments to step in and escalate the conflict, if they so wished._   
>  _3) A reference to the 1494 Treaty of Tordesillas, which although later amended pretty much divided the world down the middle into western (Spanish) and eastern (Portuguese) spheres of interest. The Pope banned all other countries from any settlement, but after the Reformation Protestant nations naturally ignored this. The English and Dutch did, after the 1688 Glorious Revolution, strike their own informal deal in which North America and India were English while the East Indies were Dutch._


	12. Not You After All

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> January-February 1640.   
> A momentous year in the life of Stephen Roger Amerike starts with not one but two deaths in the family, and the nobleman finds himself saying a temporary goodbye to Jamie (who is off to give Charles Stuart another trouncing) and a longer-term if not permanent goodbye to Scotland. Still, at least matters in England surrounding his uncle's estate are fairly straightforward.  
> Er, about that.....

**January 1640**   
**Wormit, Fifeshire, SCOTLAND**

Stephen sighed as he read his latest letter from home. He had been half-expecting this but coming as it did just days before his lover's departure, the blow was still a heavy one. His father Ellis had been ill for much of the second half of the previous year, and he had succumbed to a winter flu just days into this one.

“I am sorry”, Jamie sighed, wrapping his arms around him. “I wish that I could stay here and console you, but I have to go ahead and make sure we are ready for when the king comes north 'with all the power at his command' as he puts it. As we are going to invade England the logistics side will be even more important than last time.”

“From what Diana said in her last letter, the king's so-called army sounds even more of a joke than his first effort”, Stephen sniffed. “Poor Father. Aidan is now Baron Hexhamshire; I would wager that the spies of Charles Stuart are keeping an eye on him just in case he passes before young Theo comes of age.”

“She also mentioned someone I heard of back in Germany”, Jamie said. “Prince Rupert, the king's nephew and brother of the Elector Palatine. He was only twelve when I came home and he fought his first battle just two years after that. He has been captured by the Emperor, poor fellow.”

“And the French hold his brother Charles Louis”, Stephen sighed. “People will wonder why the king does nothing to have them freed while Catholics swan around court under his wife's protection and encouragement, with her converting ever more people to her bastard faith. That will not help him raise the county levies at all.”

“He is God's representative in Earth”, Jamie said hollowly. “God will provide – _or so he thinks!”_

MDCXL

**January 1640**  
 **Wormit, Fifeshire, SCOTLAND**

The next news from the south was more than a little surprising. Stephen read the letter through a second time to make sure that he had not misread it, but he had not. He handed it to his son who read it too.

“Who is the Earl of Stafford, Father?” Luke asked. “And why have they spelled his name wrong?”

He was sat at the window as he spoke, one eye on the preparations outside for Jamie's departure tomorrow. He was clearly affected by his favourite soldier going but was trying to hold it together. 

“It is not a mistake, son”, Stephen explained. “Do you remember my telling you about Thomas Wentworth, who is a viscount and in charge of Ireland?”

“Uncle Jamie said he was bad at making enemies”, the boy said. “Not wise for someone powerful, he said.”

“The king has promoted him to an earldom, and he has chosen Strafford as his title”, Stephen said. “It is an area¹ in the West Riding of Yorkshire, around the town of Sheffield where they produce fine cutlery. And Jamie was right about him; he has gone and made another unnecessary enemy.”

“How so. Father?” Luke asked, still gazing out of the window.

“As a new earl Wentworth was entitled to a courtesy title for his son and heir”, Stephen explained. “He has chosen Viscount Raby, after Raby Castle in Durham.”

“And does he not own that place?” the boy asked.

“Worse”, Stephen sighed. “His family did own it many years ago, but it is now the home of Sir Henry Vane the Elder². Another major player at the king's court and not someone to make an enemy of lightly.”

“Why is he old, Father?”

“He is just turned fifty but his son is of the same name, so there is Henry Vane the Elder and the Younger”, Stephen explained. “The father is furious that someone who is supposedly on the same side as him has acted in such a way as to all but claim ownership of his chief estate, although Strafford being Strafford he will not see it. Like the king, he can be conveniently blind to things that do not suit his world view.”

The boy nodded and resumed staring out of the window. 

“I am going down to Adnectan³ tomorrow”, he said eventually.

Stephen looked at him in confusion.

“Why?” he asked. 

“Because Uncle Jamie is sending Mr. Douglas round via Stirling with the men and the supplies while he rides on to Burntisland and the ferry to Edinburgh”, the boy said. “I shall say my goodbyes to him there. I cannot face doing it in front of the staff, much as I love them. I wish... I so wish that he did not have to go.”

He left the room, sniffing sadly. Stephen wiped his eyes. Because.

MDCXL

**January 1640**  
 **Wormit, Fifeshire, SCOTLAND**

Jamie's departure was horrible. Stephen reiterated his promise to look after his staff and the families of anyone who might not come back, something more likely this time as the Scots were taking the offensive. The evening before his lover had subjected him to a prolonged bout of slow love-making that had had him crying tears of happiness and sadness at one and the same time. He truly feared that Jamie might never return to Wormit.

His fears were to be proven right. Sort of.

MDCXL

**February 1640**  
 **Wormit, Fifeshire, SCOTLAND**

It was two weeks since Jamie's departure, although to Stephen it felt more like two years. The winter was cold but at least they had not had any heavy snows as yet, which was good. It also explained why he could see two men riding up the drive from his study window, two men that he recognized.

The nobleman suspected that his already difficult life was about to become that much more difficult.

MDCXL

His cousin Thor's face told him the news even before he spoke. The three of them walked silently into the study and all sat down, Brennus with two meaty arms around a lover who rolled his eyes at him but made no move to free himself.

“Edgar passed on the eighteenth”, Thor sighed. “We had the funeral – he had planned it all out which was sort of creepy, but we were grateful nonetheless – then I rode to Staward to tell Aidan. He sent me on to you.”

Stephen shook his had at the suddenness of it all. 

“What needs to be done?” he asked eventually.

“Edgar seemed to have lost the will to live after Henry's death”, Thor said sadly. “He was clearly arranging things but....”

He stopped and looked at his lover, who nodded.

“Mr. Edgar gave me this to give to you”, he said, handing Stephen the large envelope that he was carrying. “There are a lot of official documents inside he said, but he wanted you to read the letter first.”

“Do you know what is in it?” Stephen asked, opening the envelope.

“No”, Thor said.

“Yes”, Brennus said at the same time. 

His lover looked at him incredulously.

“How do you know?” he demanded. “Edgar said that he was not going to tell us anything, although we suspected that there was something he was keeping back from us.”

“He had Mr. Vithar down that day you were all visiting Oxford," Brennus said casually, "and he sorted it all for him.”

“You said that you had a cold and could not come with us!” Thor challenged.

“I lied”, his lover said simply. “Lord Edgar needed my help. He got it.”

Stephen shook his head at the two of them and opened his letter:

_'Dear nephew,_

_Before I start, I had better apologize for what I am about to tell you. I know that what with certain events in recent years you must have started to prepare yourself to succeed me, especially after poor Hal's murder. Yes it was murder by that bitch of a wife of mine. I held her under the Sewell until she stopped breathing and I enjoyed every damn minute of it!_

_As I am sure you know, my grandfather Earl Phineas was a complete Tartar. He saw it as his God-given right to arrange everything about his children's lives, and I have always harboured the belief that he lived to eighty just to spite my father and delay his accession to the earldom. Despite what I know is thought about me around Oxfordshire these days I was a bit of a rebel in my youth, and as you more than most men should know, such rebellions often have consequences. Human consequences.'_

Stephen began to have an uneasy idea as to just where this was heading. Despite his blush he read on.

_'My sister Alice was something of a misandrist, which suited our grandfather as it meant that she stayed home to care for him. Despite his failings I think that he came to respect her as she thought nothing of giving him his own attitude back, plus interest. She had a friend, a Miss Audrey Forrest who was the daughter of one of the servants; naturally Grandfather opposed such a friendship but stopped after Alice hid all favourite tobacco one day. She was (and still is) like that; thankfully she left for the West Country after grandfather's death and I was relieved to see her go._

_Audrey and I fell in love and, fool that I was, I believed that if we married and she became pregnant then my grandfather would come to accept our union. It will doubtless amaze you that when he found out what I had done and that he was to become a great-grandfather, he had a somewhat different reaction to say the least! Audrey was married off to young Philip Stark the estate's armourer, a decent fellow if thicker than your average house-brick, while I was forbidden from ever seeing her again. I did however manage to salvage something out of the debacle when Grandfather's younger son Darius, whom he had charged with dissolving our union and who disliked him intently, gave him a set of papers that claimed the marriage was over when in fact it was not.'_

Stephen gulped. He knew what that meant.

_'By this time Audrey had given birth and, as often happens in our family it was twins, two boys in this case. Philip Stark raised them as his own; I should not have been so hard in my description of the fellow as he contrived to meet me at Audrey's funeral and asked what names I should prefer. I therefore had to watch Edward and Anthony at a distance and later – horror of horrors! - I had to marry Naomi. Ugh!_

_You will see therefore that my union with Naomi was bigamous and our three sons illegitimate, although with her connections to the queen there was no way that I could have stopped them from inheriting even if I had wanted to. I suppose that like many you wondered why I chose the names of previous lords for them; now you know. I grew to like Hal and Eddie but young Alex was a frightful prig, and that he died doing something that he had been told not to – I know; like father, like son – did not surprise me in the least. Naomi knew that I had a fixation on my son succeeding me but thankfully she never learned of Anthony's and Edward's existence and after Alex's death she turned her hatred on her other sons by me, with the results that you know. I am sure that I can trust you to burn this letter once you have read it.'_

Stephen realized that his hand was shaking, while Thor and Brennus were watching him anxiously. He read on:

_'Unfortunately both Edward and Anthony inherited my wild streak as they grew to manhood. Anthony went off to fight in the eternal German wars and, the last time he wrote to Philip he was doing well enough. Edward however married against his father's wishes and had a son named for himself in 1630, then proceeded to drink himself into an early grave just three years later. Thankfully this second Edward is a great improvement on the first and, as I am sure you can see, is legally the Earl of Bradstock. I know that you could challenge his title but let us be frank; you have never really wanted such a thing and would make a much better earl's guardian than an earl. Of course to the outside world your brother Aidan will be the earl and you his local representative, at least until Edward comes of age and has sons to secure his lineage. I am asking a lot, getting you to raise a second son before the first is of age, but you have James who, Brennus tells me, is very helpful.' And quite inventive, although I did not see where that comes into things._

Stephen blushed.

_'Given the political situation as I write this letter, I am afraid that you and James will be apart when it reaches you as he will likely be arranging a thorough pasting for our lame excuse of a king. There is one more thing that I have to ask of you. The town of Forston, a new town that never took off and is close to Stalwarton, has its own member of parliament. When Vithar came to help me write this he told me that the king has issued writs for a new parliament, and I would like for you to represent the town. From the way things are, Westminster might be rather interesting in the coming years.'_

Stephen suspected that his late uncle was understating things a bit there.

_'I wish you well, and take care of my son. And my estate. You do not have to worry about the rest of my family; I am sure that Brennus will wear poor Thor out sooner rather than later, and Anne is doing much the same to Baldur. Good luck!_

_Edgar, late Earl of Bradstock_

Stephen took a deep breath, then handed the letter over to his visitors to read while he went across to the window. He was not going to be an earl after all – well, not unless perish the thought anything happened to both Edward and Anthony Stark – but he was going to be a politician. He had better start learning to bore people rigid. 

He wondered if a certain lover of his was rolling his eyes somewhere. He waited until his visitors had finished reading before he spoke.

“Two things”, he said. “First, who is to run Wormit?”

Thor reddened for some reason.

“Aidan has asked your cousin Peter and his wife to do it”, he said.

“Then why did they not accompany you here?” Stephen asked.

“Because when we stopped by on or way here, Lady Penelope had gone and broke her husband through sex!” Brennus grinned. “Again! Good woman that!”

Thor rolled his eyes at him but, Stephen noted, did not gainsay his lover. Honestly, the older generation were terrible!

“And does Stalwarton have a steward?” he asked.

“Yes, but Martinson wants to retire soon and Edgar had already promised him a cottage on the estate”, Thor said. “Why?”

“Because I have a couple of men who would fit the job very well”, Stephen said.

“Your Fraser is one handsome hunk of Scottish beef”, Brennus said earning himself a sharp look from his lover. “And that Chatton is so damn creative!”

Stephen just shook his head at him.

MDCXL

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _1) The counties of England were traditionally divided up into smaller areas called hundreds, so-called because they were meant to be able to raise a hundred men for fighting. In the former Danelaw of the north these areas were more commonly called wapentakes (probably from an old word for meeting-places), and Strafforth & Tickhill formed the southernmost part of the West Riding of Yorkshire. Today a heavily built-up area, it included the modern city of Sheffield and the towns of Conisbrough, Dinnington, Doncaster, Hatfield, Hoyland Nether, Maltby, Mexborough, Rawmarsh, Rotherham, Thorne, Tickhill and Wath-upon-Dearne. Strafforth itself comes from words meaning 'ford over the Roman road'; the main London to Scotland road crosses several rivers in the area._   
>  _2) Sir Henry Vane (b. 1589). One of those unfortunate politicians who tried to please both sides and ended up pleasing neither. Also a blabbermouth, as someone would soon find out to their very fatal cost._   
>  _3) Renamed St. Fort in the following century, a corruption of Sandford._


	13. South, Then South-East

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> March 1640.   
> Stephen heads down to Oxfordshire to fulfil his familial duties, which will be rather different from what he had expected only a short time back. He is unable to find Jamie en route but his lover's letters do reach him in Stalwarton, where he begins to settle into his landowner role and prepare for his politician one. Especially with the king taking his new army against the Scots – and his lover.

**March 1640**   
**Bawtry, Nottinghamshire, ENGLAND**

The only bad thing in the past month was that Stephen had been unable to find Jamie who was, he had heard, working flat out on preparations for the Scots army. He had headed south first to Edinburgh, then Kelso and finally Berwick, but his lover's organizational abilities meant that he was needed in about six different places at once and the nobleman could not wait days in a town on the off-chance of meeting him when he had to reach Oxfordshire in time for the election. He had therefore had to be content with leaving him a letter explaining all that had befallen him and praying that he was all right. 

The two carts containing the possessions that Stephen wanted to take with him from Wormit would not be with him for weeks, but at least he had his son who seemed happier at the warmer weather. Spring had come early this year¹ and as they entered the Midlands even the roads seemed to be improving, even if it was from dire to just awful.

“You are going to be a member of parliament, father”, Luke said as they passed through a small village. “Do the people not have to elect you first?”

“Yes”, Stephen said, “but in many constituencies only one candidate stands as a rule. Although with the king as unpopular as he is now that is starting to change.”

“Do a lot of men have the vote in this place we are heading to?” Luke asked.

“Seven of them”, Stephen answered.

The boy stared at him.

“Only seven?” he asked, astonished. “Why so few?”

“Forston St. George was a town founded about four hundred years ago”, Stephen said, “and the lord back then was in good odour with the king at the time. As a reward his new town was given a member of parliament. But the place never really prospered; other places nearby drew people away and no-one lives there any more.”

“Then where do the seven voters come from?” the boy asked, clearly confused.

“The estate, which owns the land the town is on, registers seven of its tenants as living there even though they do not²”, Stephen said. “And because voting is done in public, the landowner would know if anyone voted against his candidate and have them thrown out of their homes.”

“But you would never do that, father”, the boy said loyally.

“I would not”, Stephen agreed.

“Uncle Jamie would not let you.”

The nobleman glared at his son's retreating back as the boy rode on. The pest was somehow inheriting his honorary uncle's smirk, damn them both!

MDCXL

**March 1640**  
 **Stalwarton, Oxfordshire, ENGLAND**

Stephen's first task on arriving at Stalwarton was to meet with his cousin Vithar, who had drawn up the will and legal documents that had so changed his life. 

“My son, dutiful as he is, reminded me not to forget Mr. Philip Stark”, Stephen said. “Did the late earl make provision for him?”

He thought that his lawyer cousin, a few years younger than him, hesitated for some reason.

“Yes”, he said slowly, “a lifetime tenancy on his cottage and a good pension. Although naturally you are at liberty to change that now that you have the helm for the next decade or so.”

“Mr. Stark did my cousin a great service”, Stephen said firmly. “Please keep whatever arrangements have been made in place and assure him that will be the case; I would not have him worry at the change of master. Tell me about young Edward – is he a Stark of a Bradstock?”

“A Stark, although he wishes to change his name when he comes of age”, the lawyer said. “A good boy but very wary, which given his background is hardly surprising.”

Stephen looked at him sharply. There had seemed nothing in his words but, like with Jamie, he had become skilled in sensing when something was not being said.

“But?” he pressed.

“I have been keeping an eye on his uncle, Anthony”, the lawyer said in what Stephen thought a careful tone. “He is as you know a year older than you, sir. Now that the French have intervened the German wars are rolling ever onwards and he is a mercenary over there. He was nearly captured along with Prince Rupert and I have heard that the two are good friends.”

Stephen saw what that meant. If Anthony Stark returned to England at any time in the future then that friendship would likely lead to his gravitating to the side of the king in any conflict between him and parliament. And if the king was seriously stupid enough to think that having kept them in abeyance for eleven years parliament would somehow be sweetness and light when they assembled next month, he was even stupider than he looked!

Unfortunately that seemed all too possible.

MDCXL

**March 1640**  
 **Stalwarton, Oxfordshire, ENGLAND**

Stephen was returned uncontested as the member of parliament for Forston St. George, and could tell Luke that the two of them would be heading off to London at the start of the next month. Even better, he had a letter from Jamie congratulating him on his new house and position, and telling him that..... seriously, all that time organizing those men had made him into an even dirtier sex maniac!

“I do not know you!” Luke muttered from his chair. “And you _dare_ show me that letter without removing.... you know.”

The nobleman smirked.

MDCXL

**March 1640**  
 **Stalwarton, Oxfordshire, ENGLAND**

It was just over a week later, and Stephen could not believe it! His son had come into his study, taken one look at him and had sighed heavily.

“Where is it?” he asked.

“Where is what?” Stephen deflected.

“The new letter from Uncle Jamie”, Luke said exasperatedly.

Stephen stared at his son.

“How did you know?” he asked, taking the letter from his drawer and handing it to his son. “I was going to show it to you later anyway.”

“You always have that dopey look about you that you always get after one of his letters”, the boy said patiently, looking like he was the most long-suffering teenager in the history of Mankind. “Please tell me that it does not contain anything that would traumatize me.”

Stephen was about to deny that when he remembered, and blushed.

“Father! Really!”

“You might want to skip the last paragraph”, the nobleman admitted. “I am not sure that that is actually possible, but....”

“I shall read it later with a strong drink to hand”, Luke said. “I wanted to ask you if Cousin Peter will be calling here on his way to London.”

Peter Amerike had again been elected by the voters of Hexhamshire, like Stephen unopposed. It said something for his popularity that his vote had actually increased despite his now being based in Scotland.

“No”, Stephen said. “He knows one of the county members who part-owns a ship, so he is coming down that way. We shall leave next Monday to catch the convoy³ in Oxford.”

“Why not before?” the boy asked. “Surely we are cutting it rather fine?”

“These convoys may move at a snail's pace but there is safety in numbers”, Stephen said. “Especially with the king having so much trouble with his levies; many of them were assembled but then started rioting before dispersing. We do not want to risk running into any of those, especially as the Chiltern Hills are said to be one of the most dangerous areas in all England⁴.”

“I wonder if Uncle Jamie will be back from his fighting in time for my birthday”, the boy mused. “He promised that he would get me a gun some time soon.”

Stephen could not stop the thought that his lover might never return from the field, but pushed that thought to one side.

“He says that in his letter”, he said, “and added that when he makes it down here and we visit London, we can probably find an excellent gunsmith there.”

The boy smiled at that.

“It is in the second to last paragraph”, Stephen said helpfully. “Just before.... you know.”

“Father!”

MDCXL

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _1) Remember that England was still on the Julian Calendar, so the first day of March was actually March 11th in terms of the seasons._   
>  _2) The fictional Forston St. George was therefore both a rotten borough (little or no population) and a pocket borough (controlled by one family) in the language of a later generation. This re-registering trick was how places with no people living there, most famously Old Sarum near Salisbury, voted in their members of parliament._   
>  _3) Several private companies ran convoy systems where, for a fee, they would provide armed protection to groups travelling along set routes. This was also why the carts carrying Stephen’s and Luke’s goods would be taking so long; after having gone by ship to London they would have to wait for a convoy heading to Oxford._   
>  _4) A relic of this survives in parliamentary procedures today. A member wishing to resign their seat does it by applying for the posts of Bailiff of the Manor of Northstead, a lost manor whose lands now form part of the town of Scarborough, or Steward of the Chiltern Hundreds, a post whose original holder had to deal with highwaymen along the roads heading through those hills which lie north-west of the capital. This forces their resignation as members of parliament are banned from holding these posts. There is a joke about modern politicians and highway robbery there but your author would never stoop that low._


	14. Convoys And Curiosity

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> March-April 1640.   
> Stephen learns more about his cousin Mr. Anthony Stark as he and Luke adjust to their new home, then the two start for London and what promises to be an interesting new parliament. Luke meets the unique Miss Prince and discovers that she knows pretty much everything – including things that his father would rather were Not Talked About.

**March 1640**   
**Stalwarton, Oxfordshire, ENGLAND**

“What do you think of young Eddie?”

Luke looked up at his father from his book.

“He seems all right”, he said. “A bit quiet, but in his position I would be wary of saying too much as well.”

“What do the staff say about him?” Stephen asked cautiously. He had arranged for young Edward Stark to have his late father's room for himself; so far the ten-year-old had been cautious towards him but otherwise had seemed accepting of the situation.

“I think that some of them suspect that something was up with his father”, Luke said. “Mr. Martinson in particular; he muttered that he could not wait for his retirement next month then went red when he knew I had overheard him.”

Stephen had, reluctantly, been forced to leave Fraser and Chatton behind in Scotland at least until Aunt Penelope had arrived and had decided what she wanted doing with the estate. Both men were eager to come south and stay working for him which was good; Stephen was sure he could trust his cousin's wife with two handsome, muscular men in kilts....

He was clearly going senile!

“We shall also be meeting Eddie's uncle in London”, he told his son. “Anthony; the late earl left him a sum of money which, given that he is a soldier, will surely be welcome to him.”

Luke said nothing, but Stephen sensed that he had something he was thinking over.

“What?” he asked.

“Mr. Stark came to the estate one time”, the boy said. “All the staff were supposed to be away but Mr. Martinson had to return to get some papers signed and met him. He.... did not seem too impressed.”

“In what way?” Stephen asked, curious.

“He said that the fellow was far to full of himself, and called him a word that I cannot repeat because Uncle Jamie would not like it”, Luke said censoriously. “He said that he had a sword with 'Iron Man' on it, I suppose because his adoptive father was the armourer here. That seems a bit showy to me.”

“You will find that some men are”, Stephen said.

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**March 1640**  
 **Beaconsfield, Buckinghamshire, ENGLAND**

The convoy would take three days to reach London, and on the second night they stopped near the town of Beaconsfield. Stephen was able to find a fairly decent inn in the high street which would house him and his son for a night, not wanting to risk bedding down with the convoy as they had done last night. There had been a minor disturbance when some Oxfordshire ruffians had tested the convoy's security but had fled after being shot at. Although he did not say as much to his son that had made Stephen nervous, and he had decided that he was getting a second flintlock pistol for himself as well as one for his son. Although he would let 'Uncle Jamie' have the honour of purchasing that for the boy; even now the soldier still reddened when he heard that name. And whenever he got emotional....

Stephen reluctantly pulled himself back from a Very Happy Place and focussed on what his son was saying.

“This seems a rich place”, Luke observed as they sat down to supper. “I suppose that somewhere like this gets a lot of trade from passing convoys.”

“They are not that numerous”, his father said, “although the richer landowners will sometimes pay for their own convoys then allow others to attach themselves to it for a fee. There is safety in numbers, after all. Most of them go west down the direct road to Bristol, the great western port; we might head that way one day as they connect with ones going north to Oxford at Newbury.”

Luke looked at him shrewdly.

“You think that we would be attacked if we travelled alone”, he said.

“Convoys like this will deter all but the foolhardy drunkards who disturbed our slumbers last night”, Stephen said. “Also, those who wish to attack travellers will tend to target those going somewhere on their own. And there is only one of you who, despite his occasional bursts of sass, I am I suppose sort of fond of. In a way.”

His son rolled his eyes at him.

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**April 1640**  
 **Westminster, Middlesex, ENGLAND**

They arrived at their house in Whitehall to find that Stephen's cousin Peter had beaten them by one day but had gone out to transact some business in the city. Luke looked with pleasure at the restaurant that took up one of their three houses.

“I do not suppose that you accept rent in pastries?” the boy said hopefully as he stared through the window of the place. “Or that there are any attractive ladies in there?”

Stephen chuckled.

“It is a favourite haunt for members of parliament”, he said, “and run by a lady called Mistress Diana Prince who is a friend of both myself and Jamie. Yes, she does have some female staff – but if you cross her by approaching any of them then you are definitely on your own. I might be prepared to take on King Charles but even I draw the line at that lady!”

Stephen rolled his eyes at his father.

“She cannot be that bad”, he said.

“Why can I not, Master Amerike?”

Stephen did try and suppress his smile, but fortunately his son was too busy jumping out of his skin to notice his amusement. Diana had materialized right behind him.

“Er......”

“Any time this next hour, sir”, the lady said with a knowing smile. “I do have a business to run. The one that employs girls that are _never_ upset by any gentleman – or at least none who do not wish to discover just what I can do with a toasting-fork!”

Luke went even paler.

“Sorry, mistress”, he muttered.

“Hmm”, the lady said. “You had better come through to my room, my lord. I have had some news from your friend up in Scotland, and at least getting it to you now is rather simpler.”

Stephen nodded and followed her, elbowing his son out of his daze and earning himself an affronted look. He did try not to smirk, but from the boy's glare he may not have been one hundred per cent successful.

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“Mr. Buchanan has been scouting into England to keep tabs on how the king's efforts to raise an army against his Scottish rebels”, the lady said once they had sat down. “Those preparations can be summed up in one word: chaotic! Your friend says that the Scots do not want to invade until the king has had his shot at getting money out of this parliament, whereon he will face the shocking discovery that they will not give him any.”

“But will the king not then just send parliament away?” Luke asked.

“He is financially destitute as it is”, the lady said. “The other day he sold one set of money-raising rights for the next fifty-seven years in return for a lump sum now; he cannot continue to rob the future to support his present and for that matter permanent financial incontinence. Mr. Buchanan is of course correct; by delaying until the king gives up on parliament and heads north to meet his shambles of an army, they will make him look like the aggressor.”

“The king's supporters were, you said, boasting as to how well they have fortified Berwick hard by the Border”, Stephen said.

“Even a well-defended town cannot hold out indefinitely against a besieging army”, she said. “And the Border is longer than just the road through Berwick; there have been reports of Scottish 'merchants' being shown round the town of Newcastle, which has not one but two roads heading up to the Border.”

Stephen had a strong suspicion that those 'merchants' had not been selling anything, unless it was a whole load of flannel.

“The Scottish army will be ready to march the moment the king pokes his royal nose out of Whitehall”, Miss Prince said, “and they have rather less distance to go than he does. I would offer a wager on just how far south they will go for but, my lord, I know from Mr. Buchanan that you do not really like wagers.”

“I know that too!” Luke said fervently.

Stephen blushed.

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	15. Short But Not Sweet

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> April-May 1640.   
> The Scots vote to abolish Christmas as it is not like they are facing a potential invasion or anything (hint: they are). King Charles summons his new parliament then proceeds to upset nearly everyone in it, with the inevitable result that it proves to be a very Short Parliament indeed. And Stephen meets his cousin Anthony 'Iron Man' Stark, who lives down to the reports that he has had of him.

**April 1640**   
**Westminster, Middlesex, ENGLAND**

Stephen sighed as he sank into his chair, grateful that his son had brought him a drink. The first day of the first parliament in eleven years – and what a day it had been!

“I am to take it that things did not go well?” Luke asked after a few moments.

“If by that you mean 'was it an utter and unmitigated disaster of the first magnitude?', then yes!” Stephen said forcibly. “If I did not know differently I would think that the king deliberately set out to annoy as many people as possible today, because that was what he achieved!”

He took a deep breath and drank thankfully of his beer. 

“The king had Finch make the royal address to us”, he said. “He could hardly have made a worse choice! The bastard who not only oversaw both the Prynne and Hampden trials, but who was Speaker in the last parliament and had to be held down in his chair to stop him from closing the session. And to cap it all the king has gone and made him Baron Finch!”

He took another breath and tried to calm down.

“His speech was incredible!” he said. “Yet again the king demands that we give him all the money he wants, and if we do then perhaps he might deign to possibly maybe consider our demands at some future and unspecified point in time, if the mood takes him! I would wager that when Finch reported our reaction of which the politest version was 'not a chance!', our useless sovereign still wondered why!”

“You do not take wagers, Father”, Luke smiled. “Remember?”

Stephen shook his head at his son's sass but joined him in a smile.

“I met Diana on the way in”, he said, “and she gave me a further piece of news from Scotland. Not from Jamie unfortunately; it seems that the Scottish parliament have voted to abolish Christmas¹!”

The boy looked at him in surprise.

“How can they do that?” he asked.

“Some of the extreme Presbyterians, like too many religious extremists these days, think that it a pagan festival”, Stephen sighed. “Fools north and south of the Border, it seems. What a mess! Still, there is one bright side.”

“What is that?” his son asked.

“Well, as we are sort of Scottish we will not have to give any presents this year”, Stephen said brightly. “I suppose some young people will be annoyed, but....”

He was getting such a look from his son!

MDCXL

**April 1640**  
 **Westminster, Middlesex, ENGLAND**

It was a week later, and the rumblings coming out of the palace across the road were ominous. Like most members of parliament Stephen knew that the king had been all but forced to call them against his will, and now not only was he not getting the money that was of course his by right (!), they were back to discussing privileges and rights again. He could see this ending up as one of the shortest parliaments on record².

Today however he had a distraction, as he was visiting his cousin Vithar's offices to sign off on the bequest left to the mercenary Anthony Stark. It was the briefest of encounters; the soldier thanked him rather tersely for coming, they signed what needed to be signed and the whole business took less than ten minutes.

“I am thinking that Mr. Martinson's impression of him was all too accurate”, Stephen told his son later that day. “He was very suspicious and unfriendly, as well as surprisingly snooty for a soldier. Vithar had an ornamental battle-axe hanging on the wall and he glared at it as if it had offended him.”

“Probably he is another of those Christmas-haters who thinks it is a sign of paganism”, the boy said.

“I do not think so”, Stephen said. “They usually avoid all colours but his clothing was nearly all dark red rather than black. It reminded me rather of an Italian cardinal which is not a good impression to make in London these days.”

“Perhaps he might decamp to the Americas, then?” Luke said hopefully. 

Stephen shook his head.

“Maybe, although some people over there are coming home just now”, he said. “I asked Diana about it the other day and she reckons that we have about twenty-five thousand people each in the West Indies and in North America. She thinks that with the king both weak and preoccupied there will be more sailings now, but also that many of the extremists who left during the Personal Rule are thinking that things here might be better now that we again have a parliament, and might return.”

“Will they be better?” the boy asked.

“Not under this parliament”, Stephen said firmly. “The king will dismiss it when he finally sees that no money is forthcoming, then as Jamie says he will move to try to deal with the Scots. Only when he fails in that will he be left with no choice but to call a second parliament.”

“And then hopefully a deal”, the boy sighed.

Stephen said nothing, but part of him worried. Diana had reinforced his and Jamie's beliefs that she was certain that no deal could ever be struck with this king, as his extremist view of his Divine Right to rule meant that he would only adhere to the terms while he was forced to. And that, as the Scots had already realized, meant either replacing the king with someone else, or..... some other option.

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**May 1640**  
 **Westminster, Middlesex, ENGLAND**

The inevitable happened only a few days into the month, and Stephen was depressed at having been proven right. Even more so that the king would now be marching north, towards his lover's army.

Luke sighed when he saw his father come in well before his time.

“The king dismissed you all, Father?” he guessed. 

Stephen nodded.

“Vane made the mistake of offering to give up Ship-Money in return for a massive twelve subsidies”, he sighed. “Fool man! Pym and his fellows saw that as a sign of weakness and demanded that all grievances be addressed before they would sign off on the money. It did not help that Strafford, for some reason, was late to the meeting with his master this morning so could not speak against ending the session, a move we know he opposes. The king will go back to his illegal taxes and march north to find that the army he had ordered to assemble in York is, like last time, a shambles.”

“All the better for Uncle Jamie”, Luke said. “Are we going straight back to Oxfordshire, father?”

“I have to write to Jamie first”, Stephen said. “A general letter, but we agreed a phrase that would convey to him what has happened here today.”'

His son shook his head at him.

“What?” Stephen asked.

“You dare tell me what that phrase is!" the boy said. “I know you two!”

His father blushed.

MDCXL

**May 1640**  
 **Westminster, Middlesex, ENGLAND**

Their departure from London was as things happened to be delayed rather more than just a few hours. Stephen had barely finished his letter when his cousin burst into the house. The nobleman looked up in surprise; for all his relative's bulk he was normally not that loud.

“What has happened?” Stephen asked.

“A riot!” Peter gasped. “Quick, get the servants to bar the doors! A mob is marching from the city and they will be outside in a few minutes!”

The servants moved rapidly to secure the doors and windows while the three of them moved to an upstairs window that overlooked the palace. The mob was not large but was marching down the middle of the road, swerving only to avoid a posse of soldiers gathered in the palace's main doorway. Stephen hoped desperately that some fellow with an itchy finger would not let loose or the mob might turn on the palace itself.

Thankfully even though the houses were just above where the road narrowed, the mob pushed on past into The Street and on towards Westminster. Luke let out a sigh of relief.

“What was that about?” Stephen asked.

“Convocation – you know, the Church's own parliament – was as usual sitting at the same time as we were”, his cousin said. “But when the king dismissed us he not only kept them going, but that idiot Laud decided that with London enraged this was the perfect time to issue a new set of canons to make us even more Catholic! The Et Cetera Oath has already been burned across the city, and the mob is marching on Westminster to demand an end to the changes.”

“The what?” Luke asked. “Why is it called that?”

His cousin took a deep breath.

“The clerics were compelled to sign it”, he said, taking out a piece of paper. “They have to promise never to try to alter 'the government of this Church by archbishops, bishops, deans, and archdeacons - _et cetera!”_

His relatives both looked at him in confusion before Stephen got it.

“Once again the king's own untrustworthiness comes back to bite him”, he said softly. “Everyone will think that that 'et cetera' could later be used to insert, say, 'the Pope'. It would be like signing an open-ended document to agree to whatever the person who wrote it wanted to add later, let alone that it is not just money but their eternal souls on the line.”

“The king has double-dealt with people in the past”, Peter said. “Far too often. He can hardly be surprised if they assume the worst of him over this.”

“No”, Stephen said, “but I would wager a guinea that he will be!”

“Dear Lord, let us be thankful that Uncle Jamie is not here to take that wager!” Luke said fervently.

Stephen glared at both his sniggering relatives.

MDCXL

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _1) This was not fully repealed until 1712, five years after the Act of Union._   
>  _2) It would indeed be remembered as the Short Parliament, just twenty-three days long. Not though the shortest ever; the Exclusion Parliament in 1681 lasted for just eight days!_


	16. Off-Guard At Coldstream

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> June-August 1640.   
> The king's sure-fire plan to defend northern England from the Scots follows the rest of his plans into the circular filing-cabinet when the invaders rather disobligingly invade at the wrong place. Jamie writes to his lover with news of that and of a potential future trouble-spot for the Covenanters, while there is a new Stuart prince. Meanwhile young Luke does not fully respect his father for some strange and inexplicable reason!

**June 1640**   
**Stalwarton, Oxfordshire, ENGLAND**

_'Dear Ste,'_

Seriously, if just two words from his lover had him tearing up, Stephen Roger Amerike needed help! He smiled as he read his letter; his son had recognized its origins and told him both that he was going for a walk and also that there had better not be anything too traumatic in there for when he read it later!

Perhaps Stephen could add a sheet... no, that would be cruel. Besides, his son knew his handwriting. Still smiling he read on:

_'The news up here, daft new laws over Christmas apart, is mostly good. The one fear we had was that when we marched south to deal with the king, Antrim might invade with those ten, twenty or a hundred thousand troops he keeps boasting he has over in Ulster, but our comrades in the Emerald Isle tell us that they are as much a fantasy as we suspected. Still, Argyll thought it politic to deal with clans like the Stewarts and the Ogilvies who might rise in the king's name once most of our best soldiers are out of the country. He has so done – but at a price; he has fallen out badly with Montrose who, although he is still taking his part and bringing his men as part of our army, is far from happy the way some of his friends have been treated. There are rumours that he and several like-minded 'moderates' want a more balanced settlement with the king, a fool's errand if ever there was one as we both know that this king will only stick to a deal for as long as there is that old Sword of Damocles hanging over his head (remember how I told you about that old legend one time?).'_

Stephen blushed. Yes, Jamie had read to his that book on Greek legends, but as he had also been simultaneously trying to fuck the nobleman's brains out there was the distinct possibility that said nobleman might not have been paying full attention to... whatever his tormentor had been reading from!

_'I called in at Wormit on my travels and you would hardly recognize the place; your cousin's aunt has transformed it much to the horror of some of the old staff. I did not know there was that much pink in the world! She did want Fraser and Chatton to stay on but accepted that you had the right to have them down to Oxfordshire. Chatton told me that Fraser had been a bit unhappy at leaving his beloved Scotland for the first time, but when the new lady of the house 'accidentally' (!) burst in on him in the bath and was then so shocked that she was unable to leave (!!) he saw the benefits of it. Distance, for one thing!_

_I sent a scouting party over the Border into Cumberland and they came back with the expected news, namely that the king's efforts to raise an army are going exceptionally badly. I also got a letter from Aidan confirming just how badly the muster was going in his part of Northumberland. Who would have thought that annoying the hell out of the English gentry for over a decade then demanding they come help you might find them maybe a little slow to act? Tut tut!'_

Stephen smiled at his lover's sarcasm.

_'Thanks for your recent advice, and I hope that once this mess is sorted and a deal is signed, I can join you down in Oxfordshire. I am really looking forward to a long, hard ride with you, deep into your handsome estate. We will have a lot of catching up to do; I will have gone the best part of a year without seeing you so I am afraid that you will have to spend a lot of time with me. But then that is a sacrifice I am sure you will force yourself to make, and for which I will be pushing very, very hard._

_Jamie'_

Stephen blushed at his lover's innuendo, and made sure that he took off the last sheet when he gave the letter to his son later. Who looked through it, noted its incomplete status and just rolled his eyes at him. No respect for their elders and betters, boys these days!

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**July 1640**  
 **Stalwarton, Oxfordshire, ENGLAND**

“I am sure that that boy is an alien!”

Stephen looked up in surprise as Luke stormed into his study. Having lived with him and Jamie the boy had quickly learned that entering any room unannounced was risking exposure to some sight that he could never un-see, but even with the soldier away he still usually knocked.

“Eddie?” he asked. “What has he done?”

“It is what he has not done that is the problem!” Luke stormed. “As it is such a lovely day I thought that I would do some of my studies outside....”

Stephen looked at him sharply. The boy blushed.

“All right, I was trying to avoid Aunt Agnes who was out walking with Edward", he admitted. “Just my luck that the two of them found me, then she tells me that she is glad to have found me because she wanted an audience for her latest crime against English literature!”

“You mean her latest story”, Stephen said, staring pointedly at his son. His aunt was going through an Elizabethan phase lately, so there was a naval theme to her crim.... her stories.

Stephen had not been hiding upstairs when she had collected Edward, by the way. He had just been late down.

“There was a pole, an elephant, some ropes and two cannibals”, Luke said. “That was all I heard before I excused myself, saying that I had promised to attend you and had to be off.”

“So?” Stephen asked, confused.

“He was just sat there, enjoying it as she talked!” his son exclaimed. “What the hell is wrong with him?”

Stephen smiled, but made a mental note to get his charge's hearing tested. Although being deaf was, when faced with his aunt's stories, possibly a good thing!

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**July 1640**  
 **Stalwarton, Oxfordshire, ENGLAND**

“So the king has another son”, Luke said as they sat in Stephen's study a few days later.

The nobleman looked across at his son.

“Yes”, he said. “To be named Henry and styled as Duke of Gloucester, although he will not be officially granted the title until he is an adult. An interesting choice; an English name as we have had eight kings so called, the last being particularly memorable. Also the name of his great-grandfather Lord Darnley, the husband of Mary Queen of Scots.”

“Was he not King of Scots?” Luke asked.

“She gave him that title but the Scottish barons would not let him have any power”, Stephen explained. “That and his wild ways widened the schism between them, although his arranging the murder of her secretary Rizzio probably did not help. She likely had Darnley killed, or at least knew that some of hie enemies were planning such a thing and 'looked the other way' so that she could deny it afterwards.”

“And Great Elizabeth cut her head off”, Luke said. “It must be difficult being a man when your wife has all the power and you have none.”

Stephen looked at him curiously.

“You have never said anything about girls”, he observed.

To his surprise the boy snorted at that.

“I have to be more careful than most boys my age”, he pointed out. “First I am a bastard, for all that I am an acknowledged one. And second, I can hardly bring any girl home until I can see if she is trustworthy.”

“Trustworthy how?” Stephen asked, confused.

“Women have a way of finding things out”, the boy said knowledgeably. “Any woman I marry will quickly realize that you and Uncle Jamie.... well, she will soon spot it. I have to find someone tolerant and trustworthy, as well as good-looking of course!”

Stephen rolled his eyes at that.

“And when you do find this paragon?” he asked dryly.

“Then I will have the unbridled joy of hearing my first-born calling you 'Grandfather!'”

Stephen just glared at him. Boys these days!

MDCXL

**August 1640**  
 **Oxford, Oxfordshire, ENGLAND**

Stephen had taken Luke down to Oxford to buy him some new clothes – the boy was at age when he seemed to have periodic growth spurts, let alone the fact that even with Jamie absent he determinedly kept working out and had developed an impressive musculature for a fifteen-year-old – when they heard the news. 

“The wonders of the modern media”, the nobleman said. “Only two decades since these news-sheets started, yet now they are spreading news around the country as fast as a horse can carry them.”

“Is it the Scots, father?” Luke asked.

In other words 'is it 'Uncle Jamie'?', Stephen thought to himself. There was still a small and arguably bad part of him that was jealous of how much his son looked up to his lover, but he fought hard to suppress it.

Hard-ish.

“Yes”, he replied. “Yesterday the king received the news that the Covenanters were just days away from launching an invasion, which reportedly came as a terrible shock to him. He had assumed, I suppose, that like last time they would just wait to block him at the border. He will be leaving the capital on the twentieth, next Monday, and will meet his army up in York.”

“Will there be fighting?” Luke fretted.

“It is hard to tell, but he will definitely be too late to save Northumberland”, Stephen said. “The Scots will likely be crossing the Tweed at the same time that he steps into his coach at Whitehall, so they will have a whole week unfettered before he reaches his northern capital. They have forty miles before they reach the Tyne, while he has some three hundred.”

“Was Miss Prince right about them avoiding Berwick?” the boy asked.

Stephen nodded.

“Yes, and the king's men have been completely caught out”, he said. “They are headed down the road to Coldstream, fifteen miles west of Berwick and totally unguarded. They will cross there, march through Northumberland and be outside Newcastle before the king is in York, even though they are walking while he will be in his coach. More significantly, York is over eighty miles from the Tyne.”

“He will fail, then”, Luke said. “What will the Scots do when they have taken Northumberland, Father?”

“They have to secure the key town of Newcastle”, his father said. “That is only vulnerable if they can get across the Tyne but I think that they will find a way to do that, and then the king will be cut off from the precious Northumbrian¹ coal mines that keep London's fires burning all the way through winter. He is already unpopular in the city; people freezing to death because of his stupid war is hardly going to help matters. We are living in interesting times, son.”

MDCXL

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _1) Pertaining to the ancient Kingdom of Northumbria, which covered everything between the Trent and a line running from Stirling to Carlisle, and even the rest of southern Scotland at one time. The name survives in the central part of the old kingdom as the modern county of Northumberland, although the coal-mines were as previously mentioned actually in Bedlingtonshire, an exclave of County Durham._


	17. Chop And Change

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> September 1640.   
> Stephen's brother Aidan makes an arguably unwise decision over a gardening matter and the two Amerikes end up with a new stepfather as a result. Stephen also receives news of a forthcoming happy event as well as belated news from the New World and there is a skirmish on the Tyne in which the English win second place. Which means that two men may soon be for the chop – perhaps even literally!

**September 1640**   
**Stalwarton, Oxfordshire, ENGLAND**

There was an unexpected visitor the Hall early that month. Stephen's elder brother.

“I was just going to write”, Aidan explained, seating himself on the sofa, “but I had some things that I did not think fitting for a letter. And then I had a certain visitor at Staward who had a message for you, brother.”

Stephen's heart was suddenly beating faster. His brother eyed him knowingly.

“Jamie is fine”, he said reassuringly. “Not a scratch on him, and his army has pretty much seized all Northumberland. Oddly enough I had just written to him but he wanted to check out our county anyway. I have other important news as well – it really has been one of those months – and Mary even made me write it all down in case I forget.”

“You a scatterbrain?” Stephen said in mock astonishment. “Surely not?”

His brother shook his head at him but smiled.

“Family first”, he said. “The good news is that Mary is expecting, and due some time next spring.”

“Well done you!” Stephen smiled. “It may even be twins.”

“I know the Allendales have a reputation for that, but I hope not”, his brother said. Seeing Stephen's surprise he went on, “Mary is rather sylph-like and.... I would much rather it be just the one.”

“There is other family news?” Stephen asked, moving quickly on.

“I am afraid that there is”, his brother said heavily. “Do you remember, Angus, the gardener?”

“Big young fellow”, Stephen said. “A good worker, although he always looked as if the candles were lit but no-one was at home. He had just joined when I left so he must be nearly thirty now.”

“Last month”, Aidan sighed. “I assigned him to work for Mother at the Dower House; she was proud of the garden but with Father gone she could not maintain it herself.”

“And they did not get on?” Stephen asked.

His brother looked hard at him.

“They got on rather too well!” he said. “She wants to marry him!”

Stephen was surprised, but on reflection there was not really any reason why a lady with no major lands of her own and of a certain age should not spend her later years with.... uh oh. It was his mother!

His brother nodded.

“You should see the fellow now”, he sighed. “He looks exhausted all the time; the last time I was over there I caught him sleeping on the grass, clearly having nodded off after.... you know.”

Stephen winced. Much as he did not wish to, he 'knew'. Ugh!

“Then Mother came out and....”

“Movingswiftlyon”, Stephen cut in. “You said that you had a letter from Jamie?”

His brother smirked at both his eagerness and his determination to avoid a certain subject, but took the letter out of his pocket and handed it to him.

“I am sure that he says things in it that would make me have to kill you if you tried to read it out to me”, he said. “I said that I would relate all the events of the invasion to you so that you could concentrate on... you know, other things.”

It was Stephen's turn to smirk at the sibling embarrassment.

“Do go on”, he said.

“The king's commander¹ in Newcastle made a bad mistake”, Aidan said, glaring at him. “He knew that the city's defences were weak but also that it could be held for a time provided the Scots did not get across the Tyne which would have enabled them to properly besiege the place. He therefore sent a force to defend the ford at Newburn, west of the town. The Covenanters chose to cross there; Jamie said that they were twenty thousand to the five thousand opposing them, and that Montrose himself was first into the water. A few cannon shots and the English fled although they managed to get their own guns to safety. The artillery commander, a fellow called George Monck², was apparently one of the few to show any sense.”

“Anyway, our commander had to abandon the place although he got his guns out by sea. The Scots have it now; the king had just started off from York but he has been forced to turn back as his army is if not outnumbered then at least out-thought. He was still there when I stopped on the way down, and from the rumours I heard – his court leaks more than a sieve – he is thinking of calling a Great Council³.”

“Effectively a half-parliament”, Stephen said. “Many of the Lords oppose him too, and they will not be able to raise anything like the moneys that he needs to keep an army in the field.”

His brother nodded and rose to his feet.

“I think that I will take a walk around this fine estate that is nominally mine”, he smiled. “I shall be away for a time – long enough for you to read your letter and hopefully even to stop smiling in way that makes me wish that we were not related!”

Stephen shook his head at him, but he had the letter opened almost before the door was closed behind his smirking brother. He very much doubted that his lover would have put anything to paper that.... oh come on, the first line?The dirty dog!

MDCXL

**September 1640**  
 **Stalwarton, Oxfordshire, ENGLAND**

Aidan was spending a fortnight at Stalwarton, and on the last day of the month two letters reached him from Northumberland. One was from his mother (Stephen guessed that from the way in which he trembled as he opened it; one could never be quite sure with her!) while the other was enclosed in it and looked decidedly the worse for wear.

“Mother writes that she went to York to see 'The Royal Short-Arse' as she rather disrespectfully calls our esteemed monarch”, he said.

“Esteemed by who?” Stephen wondered. “The Catholics and the Spanish, I suppose.”

Aidan smiled at that.

“She says that the king did indeed summon the Lords to York, but it went very ill for him”, he said. “Their advice was that he should immediately sign a deal with the Scots then call a full parliament.”

“The Scots will demand that anyway”, Stephen said. “Jamie said in his letter that he knew Argyll was in talks with Pym and certain other English leaders. Although he also mentioned something about....”

His brother stopped him with a death-glare, still watching him warily as he read the second letter. His eyebrows shot up as he did so.

“This is very odd”, he said at length.

“What?” Stephen asked.

“It is from our pestilential younger brother, so that is at least one of my prayers that has gone unanswered”, Aidan said. “Annoying, as I remember reading somewhere that they do have more lightning strikes over there. But then I suppose the Good Lord only has so many bolts to spare. From the wording it seems that there must have been at least one letter before it that did not reach us.”

“Why do you say that?” Stephen asked.

“For one thing he grouses that we did not respond to the news of his marriage over two years back.”

Stephen blinked in shock.

“Johnnie found a woman with little enough taste to marry him?” he asked. “Men like him all over England will surely be headed for the New World!”

“One would hope that there are few men like him in England”, Aidan said shortly. “They had a son Alistair some two years back and now she is expecting again.”

“So how much money is he asking for?” Stephen asked.

His brother shook his head at him.

“That is a totally cynical remark”, he observed.

Stephen just looked at him.

“All right, also an accurate one”, Aidan admitted. “And King Charles has indeed sent our writs for an election, but fortunately the voters up there know that I fully support Peter.”

“You never know”, Stephen said. “The king may put someone up against him, or even against me for that matter although given the size of my constituency I doubt that. He will certainly be pulling out all the stops, although at least he cannot repeat that trick he tried back in 1626 when he appointed the likes of Wentworth as county sheriffs to stop them standing.”

“And ended up with one of his most loyal servants, even if it is a fellow who could pick a fight as the only man in a room”, Aidan said. “Jamie told me that the Scots will be insisting that this parliament allows them to hold at least Northumberland and Durham, and to only expect them to leave once they have been paid off. Which means that raising the money to do that will be a long way down the list of parliamentary business.”

“This parliament will be gunning for Laud and Strafford”, Stephen said, “and it will be interesting to see if the king is prepared to negotiate a deal to spare their necks.”

Aidan was shocked.

“You think that they would demand the death penalty?” he asked. “Surely they would only threaten that as leverage in the negotiations.”

“That is the problem”, Stephen said. “I like Pym; he is a plain-speaking man who has a vision for how this country should be run. The problem is, the king will never agree to that as long as he has breath in his body to fight such a vision. No-one who knows him would believe he would accept his two chief advisors stepping down; he would be forever striving to get them back. Unless, of course, they were dead!”

MDCXL

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _1) Edward Conway, Viscount Conway (b. 1594). Like far too many of the king's advisers he tried to keep his master sweet by telling him that everything was fine, so he had a bit of explaining to do when a huge Scottish army suddenly popped up a few miles away!_   
>  _2) George Monck (b. 1608). In a life that a publisher would likely reject as too far-fetched, he went from having to flee the country in order to avoid arrest for murder, via fighting for both sides in the Civil Wars to working for Cromwell then restoring the monarchy and finally becoming Duke of Albemarle. Apart from that things were pretty quiet._   
>  _3) Named for the Anglo-Saxon precursor to parliament; it meant calling the Lords but not the Commons. Charles was once again seeking to divide his enemies._


	18. Home Is The Soldier

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> October 1640.   
> Defeated in the field twice now, the king is forced to sign a treaty with the Scots. Worse, he has to call another parliament. Worst of all, with no money coming in he cannot just dismiss it as he has done on previous occasions. Meanehile Stephen Roger Amerike has something rather more immediate to concern himself with – the return of a certain Winter Soldier. A certain sex-starved and very horny Winter Soldier!

**October 1640**   
**Stalwarton, Oxfordshire, ENGLAND**

_'Dear Bucky_

_I am writing this from Stalwarton but will post it to you in London, so that I can take better advantage of Diana's courier service. It is damnably annoying that the king is prevaricating over the talks going on at Ripon; surely he must know that he has no choice in the matter? The longer he delays the worse his financial position grows, and more importantly the longer that you have to stay up there!_

_Adey said that even before coming down he was getting the same sort of heavy rains and flooding that we have seen down here this past month. On the upside it has helped 'bed in' Fraser and Chatton as the new stewards of Stalwarton; the sight of them both helping dredge the river raised a few eyebrows among some but the fact that the river has barely flooded at all this year except down near Knollsmere (the hamlet a mile south across the Sewell and which it does there most years anyway) showed the wisdom of having it done. Their predecessor Martinson suggested it and I made sure to reward him for advice which has saved me a lot of money in lost crops._

_My brother is back home now with the rest of the family; as you know Staward hardly ever floods. I am glad that his wife is expecting; even three thousand miles away I feel uneasy at the prospect of our brother John coming anywhere near inheriting Staward, especially as he has a son of his own now with another child on the way. Thankfully he is the problem of whichever colony has not yet tired of his foul nature and thrown him out. Maybe even into the wide Atlantic; I seem to recall reading that they have sharks off their coast!_

_I will be using the middle of the three houses for my stay in London, and Peter will be in the right-hand one that faces out onto Whitehall Place. We are I fear in for some interesting times these coming months, and all those who enriched themselves at the expense of others in the king's summer days will doubtless be considering their positions very carefully. I would wager that quite a few of them have their valuables already packed and have made arrangements for a hasty flight to the Continent._

_As ever, yours_

_Ste'_

MDCXL

**November 1640**  
 **Westminster, Middlesex, ENGLAND**

Stephen knew that his son was doubly excited at going to London, not just because he would get to see his Uncle Jamie again but also because he had been promised his long-desired matchlock gun. Worse, the boy had promised to go out for a very long walk when Uncle Jamie came 'so that his father could greet him thoroughly', as well as reminding him to lay in plenty of cushions. The young these days!

All right, the prospect of that 'thorough greeting' may or may not have made Stephen shudder somewhat, but that was beside the point!

It was only two days until parliament opened and the area was busy; Diana's shop had been bursting at the seams although she had still found time to shoot Stephen a knowing look that had made the nobleman blush fiercely. And his son snigger in a way that ran the strong risk of his being sent back to Oxfordshire if he was not more respectful of his elders and betters!

There was only a short distance between where Whitehall Place narrowed into The Street that passed through the grounds of the palace, and the main entrance to the great building. Just to the north of the narrowing and at a point that was almost in front of one of the palace's entrances Stephen noted that there was a bonfire in the middle of the road. His son stared at it curiously. 

“I know that it is Guy Fawkes's Night in four days' time”, Luke said, frowning at the huge stack of wood, “but where is the mask? Is that not traditional?”

Stephen checked around to make sure that there was no-one within hearing distance before answering.

“It shows how angry the people of London are, son”, he said quietly. “Just before they start the fire, someone will shin up and apply the mask. Most likely one of either Laud or Strafford.”

The boy gasped.

“But it is right in front of the king's palace!” he exclaimed. “Surely the soldiers at the gate over there would see and stop it?”

“Many of them are in sympathy with the people, angry at this quasi-Catholic king and his court”, he said. “Charles Stuart has brought the country to this, and in the next few months those who have aided and abetted him will I am afraid pay the price.”

They walked the short distance back to the house where a letter from Jamie had arrived. Stephen opened and read it, and his face cleared.

“Good news from the north at last!” he exclaimed. “The king has agreed to the Treaty of Ripon; the Scots are to occupy Northumberland and Durham while he has to pay them some eight hundred and fifty pounds¹ a day for expenses until a final settlement is agreed.”

“Which it will not be for some time²”, the boy said smartly, “during which the king's purse will be drained even more.”

His father nodded.

“Oh, and Jamie says that he has to accompany the Scots army back to their homes and arrange their pay”, he said. “What with the roads and all he will not be in London until next March at the earliest.”

His son's face was a picture to behold. He looked like he had heard that Christmas was going to be cancelled in England as well as Scotland. Then he suddenly turned on his father.

“You were having me on!” he said accusingly. "Father!"

Stephen just sniggered and the boy stomped off upstairs in a huff.

MDCXL

**November 1640**  
 **Westminster, Middlesex, ENGLAND**

His son was still glaring at him, but he seemed to have at least partly forgiven his teasing father when Stephen had said that Jamie was accompanying the Scottish Commissioners who were coming to the capital to discuss peace terms, and they they were due there around the tenth. In the meantime there was the small matter of the new parliament to sort out.

“The king has chosen William Lenthall to be the Speaker”, Stephen told his son when he came home on the first day, two days before Guy Fawkes's Night. “Not perhaps the best choice, but with so many of his candidates having failed to get in he was limited in his options.”

“Is he a king's man?” Luke asked.

“He is the law's man”, Stephen said, “so arguably not a bad choice for us. Certain it is that if the king tried to use him to control parliament as has been done with Speakers in the past, there would be trouble. At least he did not make the mistake of getting Finch to make his opening speech as he did last time, although there was definitely some muttering when he kept referring to the Scots as rebels.”

“In his eyes they are, I suppose”, the boy said. 

“The most important thing that happened today was the election to the Committee of Privileges”, Stephen went on. “They are the group of members which disentangles disputed elections; normally there are only a few but this time there are well over thirty. That is one reason why there are so many men around Westminster just now.”

“Why so many?” his son asked. “I thought that you once said the larger a committee, the less that gets done?”

“The usual fraud and chicanery on both sides”, Stephen sighed. “More than one sheriff made a double return because of a close result, leaving us to work out the winner. And then you have the likes of the idiot down in Hastings who decided that regardless of his coming second, the king's man should be returned as their member. We cannot undo that sort of trickery but the important thing is that Pym has gotten more than half the Committee made up of his men, so....”

“So they will declare all his supporters as winners and all the king's as losers”, Luke smiled.

“Which is exactly what the king would have done had his party won control of the Committee”, Stephen said. “Not that that will stop him complaining, of course!”

MDCXL

**November 1640**  
 **Westminster, Middlesex, ENGLAND**

Stephen shook his head as he walked through the door. It was now seventy-two hours and five minutes until his lover would be finally returned to him. And his son could stop with the knowing looks right now!

“Have they started working through the king's supporters yet?” Luke asked.

“What?” 

His son shook his head at him.

“Parliament”, he said. “You know, the place you were at today even if your mind is somewhere up the Great North Road!”

“Yes, they have called in Finch first thing Monday morning”, Stephen said abstractedly. “If he is not packing his valuables and arranging a ship for France right now them I am a Dutchman!”

“You look distracted, Father”, Luke said. “Despite the obvious. Is something wrong?”

Stephen handed him what looked like a pamphlet. His son scanned the heading and frowned.

 _“'Diurnal Occurrences'”_ , he read. “It looks like a news-sheet on what has been said in parliament. Is not such a thing illegal?”

“It is”, Stephen said, “but as members wish the public to know what is happening and how they are upholding the Protestant Cause against this Catholic tyrant of a king, they will look the other way for now.”

“Yet you seem worried”, the boy said. “Why?”

“I am afraid that, while we need the support of the people, we are heading towards dangerous waters”, his father said. “The king will soon have his own sheets portraying us in a negative light, and the whole business will only further deepen divisions between us and Whitehall.”

“Never mind”, Luke said. “You have something rather more pressing to attend to just now.”

Stephen looked at him in confusion.

“I do?” he said.

“You do, my liege!”

Stephen went almost white with shock and span round to see a wonderfully familiar figure standing behind him. James Buchanan Barnes, large as life and even with the dust of the roads on him, more beautiful that he remembered.

“I shall be heading out for that _very long_ walk now”, Luke said with a smile, “and I have made sure that there are no servants in the house. Do try to leave him in one piece, Uncle Jamie.”

“No promises!” the soldier grinned as the boy walked swiftly out of the door. “Well, my liege? It has been nearly a year.”

“And I have felt every minute of it!” Stephen said fervently. “My – _our_ room, now, soldier!”

“As my liege commands!” Jamie grinned.

MDCXL

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _1) About £160,000 ($195,000) a day at 2020 prices._   
>  _2) The final Treaty of London was not agreed until August 1641, so the king ended up paying out around £240,000 (about £42 million or $51 million at 2020 prices)._


	19. Clearout

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> October-December 1640.   
> Led by John Pym, the king's opponents take full advantage of the new parliament and several of Charles Stuart's decide on sudden and permanent-looking foreign vacations. Meanwhile Stephen recovers from having his lover back, and one utterly disrespectful son just rolls his eyes at him. Kids these days!

**October 1640**   
**Westminster, Middlesex, ENGLAND**

Many hours later but while they still had the house to themselves, Stephen lay in his lover's arm, feeling happier than he had ever thought possible.

“I thought that you were not coming until Tuesday, with the Commissioners”, he said sleepily.

“In your position I would not mention 'coming', my liege!” Jamie grinned, running a calloused hand down his lover's chest and eliciting a soft moan from the nobleman. “I got permission to ride ahead and be the one to bring news of their advent. Three less days wanting you in my bed was worth the excuses for roads in this country and barely sleeping so I could be with you the sooner.”

“And when the king agrees to the final treaty, you will not be called upon to fight again”, Stephen yawned.

His lover shook his head at him.

“You know this king as well as I, Ste”, he said. “He will keep to a deal only while he is forced so to do; he will be seeking to break the unwieldy alliance between his Scots barons and his English parliament, and he will strain ever sinew until he has done just that. If he can then defeat one then he will turn on the other, and I will again be called upon to defend my Caledonian brethren.”

“I too fear that his character will lead to war one way or another”, Stephen sighed. “But not for a time yet; parliament holds all the cards and they will kick away as many of the king's supports as they can in the coming months, starting with Laud and Strafford. The archbishop is neutralized for now but the earl will be impeached as soon as he appears in the Lords. In the meantime, let us take advantage of what we have and relax.”

“If you were any more relaxed now then I doubt you could stand up, my liege!” Jamie grinned. “Unless you need more of my attentions?”

“Let me rest for a bit!” Stephen grumbled. “And I owe Luke for clearing the house and taking himself away for a few hours.”

Jamie was silent for some reason. Stephen looked at him curiously.

“What?” he asked.

“I hope you do not mind”, the soldier said, looking oddly abashed, “but I found an excellent gunsmith up in York and purchased Luke a pistol there. If you are not happy with that....”

Stephen stopped his haverings by the simple expedient of kissing him very thoroughly.

“Bucky”, he said, “for all that he calls you uncle, you know that he regards you as a second father. As do I; I trust your judgement with him as much as my own.”

The soldier blushed at that.

“Besides”, Stephen grinned, “that way, his sons and daughters can call us both 'Grandfather'!”

Jamie scowled and once more set about trying to work the sass out of his lover. Luckily what was left of Stephen Roger Amerike was happy to let him try to do just that.

MDCXL

**October 1640**  
 **Westminster, Middlesex, ENGLAND**

The palace over the road was clearly in mourning, following the death of the three-year-old Princess Anne. But then this was a dangerous time for children; Stephen was just grateful that his own son had nearly made it to manhood.

“Strafford came to the Lords today, and was immediately impeached”, he told his lover.

“The sky is still blue”, Jamie grinned, “so what other great and stunning revelations do you have to tell me.”

Stephen shook his head at him. The soldier had come close to crying when having presented Luke with his pistol, the boy had thrown himself at him and told him how much he loved him. He had probably only been saved when Luke had added 'though not the way Father does, Uncle Jamie!'. 

He blamed the soldier for raising him like that!

Stephen was in fact more than a little worried over this move against Strafford. True, it was inevitable, but if the earl successfully fought off the charges then parliament's standing would be considerably lowered and the king might start building his own party again. At the moment nearly the whole Commons was united against him but, especially given the demands being made by the Scottish rebels over Presbyterianism, that would not last long.

MDCXL

**December 1640**  
 **Westminster, Middlesex, ENGLAND**

“You have that look on your face again”, Jamie said as Stephen knocked the snow off his boots as he came in that day. “What stupid thing has the king done this time?”

“I am not that easy to read”, Stephen said loftily.

His lover just looked at him. The nobleman sighed heavily; he hated it when his Winter Soldier did that!

“He has allowed Francis Windebanke to flee to the Continent”, he said. “The Secretary of State¹; he had been set to face the usual questions of corruption and malpractice over which we all know he is guilty..."

"As are all government officials", Jamie put in.

"But one of his enemies leaked the fact that the king had used him to request help from Catholic France to crush the Scots", Stephen said, "and worse, that he had been granting Letters of Grace to English Catholics so that they did not have to pay fines².”

“And they did not throw him in the Tower along with Strafford?” Jamie asked, surprised.

“They let him go home while they finished their investigations, and he fled to France overnight”, Stephen said. “Much of the king's court is going to end up in his wife's country at this rate! By the way, why was Luke so cross with you earlier? He glared at you all through breakfast.”

The soldier grinned.

“I reminded him that he was not allowed to use his new gun until I had given him lessons in how to handle it”, he said, “even though I had it all set up ready. So he took it down to the river to try it out.”

“And?” Stephen asked.

“I filled the chamber and barrel with soot, so that he got covered with it when he let it off!” he grinned. “Why do you think that he took a bath without having to be told yesterday evening? And paid the servants to wash all his clothes. By the way, he said he hopes that I break you one of these days!”

“You probably will”, Stephen said. “But I will enjoy it, so that is all right.”

Jamie looked at him, then glanced skywards. Stephen sighed; apparently the soldier's next effort was scheduled for pretty much right now and.... and why was he still sitting there like an idiot? 

He raced after his lover.

MDCXL

**December 1640**  
 **Westminster, Middlesex, ENGLAND**

“And so it begins”, Stephen said. “I thought that Pym would regret letting the people feel that they had too much influence, and he was less than pleased when he had to receive this Root and Branch Petition today.”

“Something to do with gardening?” Jamie grinned. 

Stephen swatted at him.

“As you know damn well, it is demanding the 'root and branch' removal of the bishops from the House of Lords”, he said. “A medium-term goal of Pym's as we all know, but not one that he wants to have around his neck while the impeachment of Strafford crawls forwards. Fortunately he was able to shunt it into a committee and they will likely sit on it until he is ready.”

“Committees are good for that”, Jamie said. “The Scots army was as bad; Argyll learned very quickly that inviting everybody's opinions meant that you got everybody's opinions and were none the wiser as a result. Best to just take action and live with the consequences.”

“Like the king?” Stephen asked.

“He is different”, Jamie said. “The constitution, what there is of it, demands that he listen or at least do like Great Elizabeth and pretend to listen. But his open loathing for anyone who crosses him – that is a terrible failing for a monarch of these islands. One that may well cost him his throne if he is not careful.”

MDCXL

**December 1640**  
 **Westminster, Middlesex, ENGLAND**

“Do you think that it is true about that falling painting, Uncle Jamie?”

Stephen looked across at his son, only very mildly annoyed (and still not the least bit jealous) that the boy had defaulted to asking the soldier for advice rather than the man who had helped bring him into existence. Especially a soldier who was perilously close to a smirk that, justified as it might have been based on certain festive celebrations of late, was still damnably annoying.

“You mean when Archbishop Laud's painting fell down in his study, now that he has finally been impeached and taken to the Tower”, the soldier said, looking far too knowingly at his lover.

“Uncle Jamie!” the boy said exasperatedly. “Focus!”

“I always do!” the soldier grinned. “On things that are important, Luke. And now we have all these news-sheets jostling for our attention, we have plenty of ways of finding out what has happened in record time. I see that pompous ass Finch has followed Windebanke overseas, Ste.”

“As one of the king's leading accomplices he could hardly have escaped our attentions”, Stephen said, shifting slightly in his chair from his lover's hungry looks. “Like Windebanke I dare say he had it all planned beforehand; those at the top have excellent survival instincts or they would not be at the top to start with.”

“It will be a new year tomorrow”, Jamie said. “A new start, though there will be much business to be done from this the old one first. Strafford will be tried and, one way or another, the king will lose him. But the longer that this goes on, the more people will tire of it and want some sort of settlement. The trouble is that he will never honour any such settlement, and I very much fear that the end result will be war.”

“It will be a rough year, sixteen hundred and forty-one”, Stephen agreed.

“Very!” Jamie said, running his tongue around his lips in what could only have been described as a lascivious manner.

“Ahem!” Luke said pointedly. “Child here!”

“Child had better remember that we adults always 'celebrate' a new year, then”, Jamie grinned. “Oftentimes very loudly!”

Luke just rolled his eyes at him, and at his father whose breathing had for some reason become somewhat irregular. He would definitely be spending the night in his cousin's house next door – in the room furthest from these two idiots' bedroom!

MDCXL

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _1) Roughly equivalent to the modern post of prime minister, but of course always doing the king's bidding and there were were usually two or more post-holders. Francis Windebanke (b. 1582) surprised few when he converted to Catholicism shortly before his death in exile in 1646._   
>  _2) Recusants were fined a shilling (5p) a week; £9 or $11 at 2020 prices, the money going to the poor. Windebanke's own records showed that not only had he granted Letters of Grace for the legal avoidance of fines, but that he was also hardly fining any Catholics to start with._


	20. Mercuries And Mercenaries

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> January-February 1641.   
> Young Edward Stark's right to inherit his father's title is challenged by his 'Iron Man' Uncle Anthony but Stephen is able to use the offices of Miss Prince to outwit the mercenary, although both he and Jamie know that they have made a bad enemy in the process. The nobleman is late for a committee meeting (you know damn well why!), his son is getting French lessons, and there is an ever increasing number of Mercuries.

**January 1641**   
**Westminster, Middlesex, ENGLAND**

Jamie snorted as he read the latest news-sheet.

“What are you reading?” Stephen asked as he got dressed. His lover looked hungrily at him and the nobleman trembled, if pleasurably.

“One of the Mercuries¹”, Jamie said, looking as if he was seriously thinking about dragging his lover away from parliament and back between the covers. “The king has offered St. John the post of Solicitor-General, and he has accepted.”

“A single post to a member of the opposition to cover for the two dozen appointments to all the remaining top posts of his lackey friends”, Stephen snorted. “Has he accepted?”

“Aye”, Jamie said, still eyeing the nobleman lasciviously.

“Any.... any other news?” Stephen asked, trying to keep his voice even.

“The king has also graciously consented to the abolition of the Star Chamber”, Jamie said. “I am thinking you look really good in those trousers Ste, but you would look even better out of them!”

“I have a committee meeting in half an hour”, his lover pointed out.

Jamie just looked at him.

MDCXLI

Stephen had to run all the way to the committee room and to endure an epic eye-roll from his son on his way out of the house, but he just about made it. Although after Jamie had whispered what he intended to do to him that evening, it might be said that his mind was not quite one hundred per cent on the matter at hand. Whatever it was.

MDCXLI

**January 1641**  
 **Westminster, Middlesex, ENGLAND**

Luke stared at his father in surprise.

“I thought that the Earl of Strafford had already been charged”, he said.

“No, only impeached²”, Stephen explained. “That means accused of wrongdoing, which is parliament's way of asking the king to remove him from his circle of advisers after which we may or may not charge him. Though with that fellow's habit of making unnecessary enemies right, left and centre, a charge of high treason was pretty much bound to happen.”

“Why do they call it high treason, Uncle Jamie?”

His damn lover was smirking at his son turning to him again! Stephen pouted.

“Treason means plotting to end someone's life, Luke”, the soldier explained, smirking far too much for his lover's liking. “There was a famous trial when your father and I were up in Scotland, just before you joined us, in which the king charged a man he disliked with something equivalent to it just because the fellow had been planning to present him with a petition. He secured a conviction but thankfully backed away from demanding that the death sentence be carried out, otherwise we might have been in this current mess even sooner. High treason is when it is against the life of the king; petty or _petit_ treason is against anyone else.”

“That is the French word for small”, Luke said knowledgeably. “I learned a lot of French while you were away, Uncle Jamie.”

“Yes, I hear the Huguenot Monsieur LeClerc who lives at the end of this street has a very pretty daughter”, Jamie smiled, making the boy turn bright red. “I would wager she has taught you a thing or two about French....”

“I have lessons to attend to”, the boy said hurriedly. “Must run!”

He fled, although not before he heard both men sniggering behind him.

MDCXLI

**February 1641**  
 **Westminster, Middlesex, ENGLAND**

“You may have a problem.”

Stephen looked up at his lover. This was pretty much his only choice since Jamie was currently on top of him in their bed. 

“What?” he asked sleepily.

“Sexed you out good and proper, have I not my liege?” Jamie said teasingly. “Diana told me that a certain Captain Anthony Stark is back in town.”

Stephen was surprised.

“So soon?” he said. “And why did you not tell me sooner?”

“Well, if you will greet your Winter Soldier wearing those tight trousers....”

Stephen blushed at the memory. Jamie had come in looking exasperated and the nobleman had sensed immediately what he needed. And he (or rather Stephen) had definitely gotten it. Twice! It was even worth his son's eye-roll and the two had barrelled upstairs with arguably not that much decorum.

“Does she know why he is back so soon?” Stephen asked.

“She likely knows what he had for breakfast this morning!” Jamie scoffed. _“Reportedly_ his service finished over there and he has been paid off.”

Stephen looked sharply at his lover. There had to be more to it than that; from what little he knew of his sort-of relative Captain Stark was a born fighter, and would not have passed up the chance for further military action while he was still young enough to do it.

“She suspects that he may be thinking of challenging his nephew's right to inherit”, Jamie said.

“How can he?” Stephen wondered. “He and the boy's father were twins; he can hardly claim that Edward is illegitimate without invalidating his own claim.”

“Diana has an idea”, Jamie said, “but he has only been back in England for less than twenty-four hours so she will need more time to find out just what he is up to. She will, though.”

“Just as the sun will rise in the east tomorrow”, Stephen agreed. “Ready to go down and face a certain young gentleman's disapproving looks over the supper-table?”

Jamie began to rub their bodies together in answer. Stephen groaned, and just went with it. Like he had any choice in the matter!

MDCXLI

He would have complained about his son muttering something that sounded suspiciously like 'insatiable sex maniacs' at the dinner-table, but he needed all his energy to stay awake!

MDCXLI

**February 1641**  
 **Westminster, Middlesex, ENGLAND**

It was exactly one week later and, even knowing what he did about their bakery neighbour, Stephen was impressed. The set of documents that she had provided him with proved exactly what Captain Stark had been up to in his returning to England, and it was bad. Fortunately it was also preventable, which was the important thing.

His sort-of relative arrived for their meeting promptly and Stephen took him into the study where Jamie was waiting. The nobleman was fairly sure that his visitor would not resort to violence but this was London in the seventeenth century and he did not wish to take any chances. The mercenary looked warily at Jamie, then sat down.

“I have a rather important document to show you, sir”, he said. “It is a signed confession from one Mistress Arbella Quigley that I obtained recently.”

“That would be the midwife who helped deliver you and your late elder brother Edward into this world”, Stephen said easily, noting with pleasure how his visitor was surprised at his immediate knowledge.

“Yes”, the mercenary said, recovering. “She admits under oath that I was the first-born but, my having been a sickly child, my father insisted on my younger brother Edward being proclaimed the elder instead. As such I am the rightful heir to the Bradstock estate.”

Stephen stared at him for a moment. Physically he was a fine figure of a man, the same age as Jamie and not far short of his musculature, but there was a pinched meanness about his face that showed his true nature.

“I must say”, the nobleman said at last, “that I am surprised. I would not have thought Mistress Quigley capable of such a thing.”

“The lower orders often do things that are questionable when ordered by their betters”, Mr. Stark said dismissively. “Now, about the estate....”

“I meant her signing this so-called confession”, Stephen said airily. “It is some achievement, her doing that for you so recently - _especially considering that she died some two years ago!_

His visitor looked shocked.

“What are you saying, sir?” he demanded.

“This is a reasonable facsimile of the late Mistress Quigley's writing”, Stephen said, “but then that is hardly surprising when one considers that it was written by her daughter. Her daughter to whom you paid a significant sum of money with the promise of more once you came into your stolen inheritance.”

“Sir, I protest!”

“Sir, I would not in your position”, Stephen said shortly. “I am fully aware of your subterfuge, and the woman in question has already been interviewed by the authorities” - he looked at his watch - “as of twenty minutes ago. The consequences of her illegal actions will have been explained to her and she will be given a choice; admit her role and be let off with a small fine which will be donated to the local hospital, or continue to carry on this charade in which case she will see the inside of a gaol cell before the day is out, one with which she will have plenty of time in which to become very familiar. My betting is that she will choose option one, and her confession will be brought to me. I will have it copied and lodged in several different places, then if you persist in attempting to undermine your nephew's claim – or if anything untoward happens to either him or me – it will be produced and you will be thrown into gaol.”

The mercenary shot to his feet and placed his hand on his sword, only for Jamie to cough pointedly. They both looked across to see that he had his dagger in his hand and was toying with it.

“I would not”, the soldier smiled. “For your own continued existence, sir, wretched though that is.”

The visitor scowled but strode to the door. With his hand on the knob he hesitated.

“Remember, gentlemen”, he said darkly, “there is more than one way to skin a cat. I will have my estate – _one way or another!”_

With that he was gone. The two men looked at each other and Stephen could not but worry. He had indeed made a bad enemy, and worse, one who knew how to kill with ease.

MDCXLI

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _1) Collective name for newspapers at the time as many of them had Latin titles starting with Mercurius; the Roman god Mercury was the patron of heralds. The two most famous newspapers during the war were the Royalist Mercurius Aulicus ('the prince's herald') and the parliamentarian Mercurius Britanicus (yes, spelled like that, and you can work it out for yourselves)._   
>  _2) Impeachment worked in that the House of Commons acted as prosecution and the House of Lords as judges. Trial by one's peers (equals) was a fundamental birthright of all Englishmen under Magna Carta._


	21. Destraint And Restraint

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> February-March 1641.   
> Stephen and Jamie have to deal with Anthony Stark's frustration at his schemes having gone awry, but manage to do so. The king has to watch helplessly at his friend the Earl of Strafford is accused of high treason. He make concession after concession in an effort to buy time, but a bishop moves tangentially to cross his schemes and tensions rise in the capital.

**February 1641**   
**Westminster, Middlesex, ENGLAND**

“The king has assented to the Triennial Act”, Luke said at the dinner-table a few days later. “That is a word that means every three years, does it not Uncle Jamie?”

Stephen did not even bother to roll his eyes at his son turning to the soldier for advice. And he did not resent it either, or at least not as much as he resented someone's knowing smirk, damn the fellow!

“Your father is the one to ask about that, Luke”, Jamie said easily. “He is the politician after all, and knows all about new laws like that. He knows a lot of things, really.”

“He does not know how to keep his voice down”, the boy sighed. “Or at least to always shut the door when you and he are 'working' in your room!”

Stephen blushed fiercely.

“It is part of something called the Dissolution Act, Luke”, he said rather quickly. “As you know, kings have always been able to call parliaments as and when they liked, although they more or less had to call them if they needed extra money for wars and such things. This 'new' law – it was proposed under Edward the Third but never enacted – means that if the king chooses not to call a parliament for a period of three years then elections will happen anyway and a new one will assemble. It stops him from ruling without us for years on end, like he did in the last decade.”

“But why has it got two names?” Luke asked. “Could you not decide on just one?”

Jamie sniggered. Stephen scowled at him.

“It is really a package of laws, of which the Triennial Act is one while the Dissolution Act is the overall name for them all”, he explained. “Other acts in the package stop the king from forcing people to buy titles – what they call destraint of knighthood – and from forcing them to loan him money that he has no intention of ever repaying. More importantly, another new law means that this parliament cannot be dissolved without its consent. Overall it greatly reduces royal power; there is nothing quite like it anywhere else in the world.”

“The king does still retain quite a number of powers though”, Jamie pointed out, “including the rights to raise an army and to choose his own councillors. But once this Strafford trial is sorted out I dare say that parliament will move on those; we known that Pym would like to remove the bishops from the House of Lords but does not want to while he is after the earl's blood.”

“Will they hang the earl, do you think?” Luke asked worriedly.

“Noblemen get beheaded, not hung”, Jamie reminded him. “They may, I am afraid. The trouble is that this king cannot be trusted, and parliament may feel that the only way they can stop the king taking him back is to have him put to death. Of course the king has to sign the death-warrant, which is the time of greatest danger.”

“To them?” Luke asked. The soldier shook his head.

"Not just them", he said. "Pym will bring out the London mobs to pressure the king into signing and the streets will be dangerous indeed. Dangerous for us all, son.”

Both Stephen and Luke stared at him. He stared back.

“What?” he asked, evidently nonplussed.

“You called me son!” Luke smiled. 

The soldier went bright red. Stephen tried to hold back a smirk, but was not quite one hundred per cent successful in his efforts. As in he failed spectacularly.

MDCXLI

**March 1641**  
 **Westminster, Middlesex, ENGLAND**

“Bishop Williams¹ is a slippery fish.”

Jamie snorted from where he was sat playing with his lover's hair. Stephen was stretched out on their sofa, his head on his lover's lap and definitely not purring with happiness whatever anyone smirked.

“And the sky is blue!” the soldier retorted. “He is the fellow Laud spent half a decade trying to winkle out of Lincoln, you once told me. What has he done now?”

“He has, for now at least, saved the position of the bishops in the Lords at the price of likely dooming Strafford”, Stephen said. “In the Lords today he declared the matter a 'cause of blood', in other words a decision that might end in the execution of the accused, and said that as such he and his fellow bishops should not vote on it. Pym will accept that and allow them to draw their stipends for a few months longer, while the king will be furious. He will see that the Lords might now have a majority against his friend.”

“But he still has the Earl of Bedford², the leading moderate”, Jamie said. “Surely he would be more than prepared to trade Strafford's life for influence in court?”

“That is what Pym fears”, Stephen said. “And since he is striving to keep the Lords on side there is little that he can do to stop such a move. Well, we shall see what we shall see.”

MDCXLI

**March 1641**  
 **Westminster, Middlesex, ENGLAND**

The four youths jostled each other as they came around the corner where the side-street that ran by the Bradstock houses met Whitehall Place, then almost fell over each other. Possibly the sight of Jamie and Stephen each armed with sword and dagger may have been a marginal factor in their sudden discombobulation.

“Going somewhere, boys?” Jamie said acidly. 

The tallest of the four looked hopefully past them, but realized that Miss Prince's bakery was closed. Stephen fixed his gaze on the youth, although in truth he would much rather have fixed on his lover who was wearing his favourite kilt. With, as ever, nothing underneath!

The nobleman dragged his mind away from its Very Happy Place and back to the matter in hand.

“Dick Cressage”, he said to the shortest of the four reprobates. “I have not seen you around here for a while, although I know you spoke to a certain relative of mine the other day. Has your mother found out about you and the girl from the docks yet?”

The youth in question went deathly pale. He would have gone even more so had he known that his antics that day had been discovered by the ever-efficient Diana, who had sent word to his very large mother of his behaviour. Still, she had two other sons.

“And Brandon Paddock”, Jamie said. “Your father owes quite a bit of money around this town. I think I might ask my friend here to call on some acquaintances of mine and get them to lean on him a bit...”

The youth in question turned tail and bolted, followed swiftly by his partners in crime. Stephen chuckled as they almost fought each other in their eagerness to be away from them.

“Celebrate our success?” Jamie grinned, waggling his eyebrows at his lover.

Stephen sighed.

“I promised Luke that I would help him with his astronomy project this morning”, he said ruefully.

“He is down in the kitchens, learning how to cook some basic stuff”, Jamie smiled. “He said that two floors might just about be enough to spare his poor ears from your screaming.”

“I can show restraint!” Stephen protested.

The soldier was suddenly right next to him, his breath hot on the nobleman's neck.

 _”Restraints!”_ he hissed. “Now there is an idea....”

MDCXLI

**March 1641**  
 **Westminster, Middlesex, ENGLAND**

Stephen sighed deeply as he sat down. Luke and Jamie looked across at him anxiously.

“Well, now we know why Pym was so confident”, he said. “His legal team dropped a bombshell today. They produced a copy of a note from Sir Henry Vane about that meeting the king had with Strafford after the Short Parliament.”

“What was it about, father?” Luke asked.

“More importantly, how did Pym get hold of it?” Jamie wondered.

“How else?” Stephen said. “Vane's fop of a son, of course. He must have copied it and slipped it to Pym; we know there is no love lost between them after the Raby thing. Strafford told the king that he had an army in Ireland which he could use to reduce this kingdom.”

“We knew that Charles Stuart was planning that against us Scots”, Jamie scoffed. “That is hardly news, Ste.”

His lover shook his head.

“Pym's legal team have put a much more deadly interpretation on those careless words”, he said. “'This kingdom' – _but which kingdom, Scotland or England?_ The idea that the king would use an Irish army against his English subjects – the earl might as well build a scaffold and put his head on the block! It is treason all right, if the Lords will swallow it.”

“Do you think that they will, father?” Luke asked.

“My guess is that they will not”, Stephen said, “especially since the prosecution immediately called Sir Henry Vane and he started waffling like his life depended on it. He could not be sure as to which kingdom the earl had been talking about, although up to that point they had been discussing Scotland. Strafford called a couple of other men there that day and they were sure he meant Scotland, so I think that that will sink Pym's case.”

“How?” Luke asked.

“The rules of impeachment state that a charge of high treason can only be accepted if backed by two sound witnesses”, Stephen said. “Pym has one, for what little Vane is worth. Yet..... I worry. He is too skilled an operator not to have foreseen that this might not be accepted. He must have a back-up plan, but I cannot for the life of me think what it might be.”

MDCXLI

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _1) John Williams (b. 1582). He had become Lord Keeper of the Great Seal under King James the Sixth and First but he been against Buckingham so Charles had dismissed him. Laud had tried to force him out of office and had even imprisoned him. The Long Parliament as it became had secured his release in 1640 and he had for some strange reason not exactly been happy with either the king, Laud or Strafford._   
>  _2) Francis Russell (b. 1593). He had inherited the earldom somewhat unexpectedly as his cousin Edward had died after a fall from a horse in 1627. Frankie had been involved in the huge project to drain the Fens (the marshy area inland of the then larger Wash Estuary) which had brought him closer to the king but had also proved very costly. The Old and New Bedford Rivers in the area are still named for him. He had no children but the family managed to retain the title and the current Duke of Bedford is as of 2020 Andrew Russell (b. 1962)._


	22. Sauce For The Goose

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> April 1641.   
> The trial of Strafford comes to an end as the prosecution falls. Monarch and earl are jubilant – but then John Pym shocks them by playing the king at his own game and picking up a medieval practice that had long been thought defunct. Charles is reduced to trying force, again not for the last time and again to little avail. Meanwhile Luke is embarrassed again by the so-called adults in his house, so no change there.

**April 1641**   
**Westminster, Middlesex, ENGLAND**

“I would like to thing that our esteemed monarch has his head screwed on correctly”, Stephen said as he sat down in his study and let Jamie pull his boots off. “But this trial seems only to back all those like me who think he takes Divine Right to meant that rules do not apply to him.”

“The trial?” Jamie guessed. His lover nodded.

“That the king should attend the trial is one thing”, he said, “but talking to Strafford between sessions and openly laughing when he deflects the questions against him is going too far. I know that he has already said he will never sign the fellow's death-warrant but he says a lot of things that he then backs away from 'as a matter of expediency'.”

“You think the case will collapse?” Jamie asked.

“Almost certainly”, Stephen said. “The Lords, even without the bishops, are openly dubious as to the evidence, and when it comes from the likes of Sir Henry Vane I cannot say that I blame them. I might think that the accused was trying to look like a beleaguered old man as he is nothing like the manipulative schemer he is accused of being, but such tactics are too far from his nature. Besides, he is a Yorkshireman and they are renowned for being blunt.”

Jamie was silent, and Stephen looked at him curiously.

“Is something amiss?” he asked. 

“Luke did not come back with you?” he said.

“He took a message over to Hampden for me”, Stephen said. “Unusual for him not to be at the trial but I think he said that that he had some sort of family thing. Why?”

“Because Luke may be enamoured of young Anne Cromwell¹, the daughter of the permanently taciturn Oliver”, Jamie said. “She is the boy's age after all.”

Stephen frowned.

“That would tie me very firmly to the opponents of the king”, he said, “which might not be a good thing. I always thought it strange that Cromwell was Hampden's cousin; they are so unalike."

"Cousins need not be alike", Jamie smiled. "Although you do bear some resemblance to Thor in being permanently sexed out by a horny and well-hung lover!"

Stephen rolled his eyes at him for that.

"Do you think that I should say anything to Luke?” he asked.

“Not just yet”, Jamie advised. “He is fifteen and you know what teenagers are like. Tell them not to do something and they will likely immediately go out and do it just to spite you.”

Stephen was about to agree when he remembered; he had been sixteen when.... that had happened and resulted in the subject of their conversation. He stared suspiciously at a lover who looked far too close to a smirk for his liking.

MDCXLI

**April 1641**  
 **Westminster, Middlesex, ENGLAND**

Stephen tried. He did, really. But when Luke came in late to dinner he could not but help look at his son.

“Hampden kept you all this time?” he asked.

“I had to play with his cousin Anne”, the boy said with studied carelessness, “who is about my age, I think. She was all right for a girl.”

“I have seen her”, Jamie said with a knowing smile. “Rather an ugly girl, I thought.”

Luke glared at him.

“She is actually quite pretty!” he protested. 

Both men just looked at him and waited for the blush. Sure enough it came.

“Adults!” the boy grumbled as he took his seat. “When my generation takes over we will run things so much better.”

“That was what our generation thought at your age”, Jamie smiled. “When we went walking along the river with the loves of our young lives....”

“Uncle Jamie!”

The soldier sniggered, but dropped the subject. Stephen had to turn away to hide his own smirk.

MDCXLI

**April 1641**  
 **Westminster, Middlesex, ENGLAND**

“That”, Stephen said as he took a stiff drink, “had to have been one of the shortest victory celebrations on record. Strafford is acquitted of treason – then mere hours later Pym wheels out the wonder weapon we were all wondering about. Attainder.”

His son looked at him in surprise.

“What is the difference between that and impeachment?” he asked. “I thought that the law said a man cannot be tried twice for the same crime?”

“He cannot”, Stephen agreed, “which is why parliaments of old invented attainder for those really stubborn 'evil counsellors' that they could not get at through the normal processes. To attaint someone is to accuse them through the court of parliament rather than the court of law. No judges, no rules of evidence – a straight vote in first the Commons then the Lords, and the man is guilty. Even worse, his family is ruined by association as they cannot inherit his lands or titles.”

“But the king said that he will not sign any death-warrant", Luke said.

“Aye, he has”, Jamie agreed from his chair. “And those words may well come back to haunt him.”

“How?” Luke asked reasonably. “A promise is a promise, especially one from a king.”

“I would not take the promises of this king to be worth more than a gnat's fart!” Jamie said bluntly. “Think of it, son. The Commons passed the attainder as surely it will, then it goes to the Lords. If they believe that the king will refuse to sign it anyway, then they will buckle to the pressure of the mobs and vote it through as well. Then those mobs will turn on the king, and he will fear for his own family's safety. This is a smart stroke of Pym's, but it may cost him in the long run.”

Stephen smiled to himself at the way that his lover used the s-word without even thinking about it.

“Why?” Luke asked.

“Because it is legally dubious, and several of Pym's supporters were indeed angered by his wheeling it out”, Stephen said, catching his lover's suspicious look at his slight smile. “There is a natural tendency to the normal order of things that is working against Pym, let alone the fact that his Scottish allies and supporters in the House want different things. He may win this round but the king is I am sure watching and waiting for any weaknesses, and he will be full ready to exploit them when they happen.”

MDCXLI

**April 1641**  
 **Westminster, Middlesex, ENGLAND**

Some things, Stephen thought, were inevitable. Death. Taxes. Charles Stuart doing the wrong thing.

“What was he thinking?” Jamie sighed as they lay together that evening. “This will only drive the Lords who might have supported him back to Pym.”

The news-sheets were full of the news that the king had made an attempt to break his former adviser out of the Tower by sending a hundred men under a new constable to take over the place. Lord Newport² had refused them entry which had both relieved and surprised Stephen; he knew that Pym had been worried about the Constable of the Tower.

“That is yet another of this king's many failings”, Stephen sighed. “Because God is so obviously on his side he thinks that he can adopt six strategies at one and the same time, on the basis that the Good Lord will make at least one of them succeed. Because this king will always win in the end.”

“If he does not buck his ideas up”, Jamie said shortly, “he may lose his throne and his head. Idiot!”

MDCXLI

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _1) A fictional extra daughter to add to four that Oliver and his wife Elizabeth had. There were also five sons; one (James) had died in infancy while another (Robert) died in 1639 of a fever while away at school. Anne came close to not even being in the same country as Luke; her father had suffered from an expensive legal case in the early thirties and had been reduced to being a yeoman farmer, even trying to emigrate to the New World in 1634 – except that the king had refused permission! Luckily for Oliver the unexpected death of his rich uncle Sir Thomas Steward two years after that had put him back among the gentry just in time to play his role in history._   
>  _2) The wonderfully named Mountjoy Blount (b. 1597). Created Earl of Newport (Isle of Wight) in 1628 his family were mostly parliamentarians as initially was he, but despite being replaced as Constable of the Tower by the end of the year he would fight on the Royalist side in the Civil Wars._


	23. His Blood Lies Between Them

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> May 1641.   
> A royal marriage does not distract people from the fact that the life of Strafford hangs in the balance, and the untimely death of one of the king's few friends in parliament hardly helps matters. Charles Stuart is forced to sign his friend's death-warrant, and one bright May morn the earl duly meets his Maker courtesy of the executioner's axe. There is now blood between the king and his enemies – which is not good.

**May 1641**   
**Westminster, Middlesex, ENGLAND**

“Only our king”, Stephen said, “could marry his daughter off to a leading Protestant power on the Continent and yet still make himself look bad in so doing.”

His son looked at him curiously but Jamie nodded.

“The Elector?” he asked.

“The Elector”, Stephen sighed.

“Who is the Elector?” Luke asked exasperatedly. 

“The king's nephew, Charles Louis”, his father said. “We told you about him, remember?.”

"I remember", Luke said. “But why is he an Elector? Who or what does he 'elect'?"

“The Holy Roman Emperor is elected by seven of the German princes whose lands he rules over””, Stephen said. “It is normally someone from the Hapsburg rulers of Austria but what with the Reformation and then the Counter-Reformation, a situation had arisen in which there were three Protestant electors including Frederick against four Catholic ones.”

“So the Catholics would choose the Emperor, then”, Luke reasoned.

“Yes”, his father said, “but the old King of Bohemia was one of the four Catholic rulers. Had Frederick taken over his kingdom he would have had two votes so the Protestants would have had a majority. There had been a fragile peace in the Empire from the middle of the last century when the Hapsburg rulers had granted a sort of toleration in that people had to follow the religion of their rulers, but Frederick's move ended that and stared this eternal and infernal German war.”

“In which Uncle Jamie fought”, Luke said, looking at the soldier admiringly.

Jamie blushed and Stephen fought to hold back a smile.

“Charles Louis not unnaturally wants his throne back”, the nobleman explained, “and there was some sort of unwritten agreement between our king and his sister that his eldest daughter Mary would marry Frederick's eldest son. That was actually another Frederick but he died before his father, so as you can imagine Charles Louis was not best pleased to find 'his' bride being married off to the young William of Orange¹, even if the Dutch have supported him in his exile.”

“They are too busy finishing off their war against the Spanish and trying to stop the French from sneaking in to grab some Flemish towns for themselves”, Jamie said, smirking at his lover's jealousy. “The king will get no help from them, and though Charles Louis is a bit of a dolt he has much public support because of his mother especially now she is a widow. Yet another example of this king shooting himself in the foot – which reminds me Luke, it is time for your gun lesson.”

“Of course, Uncle Jamie”, the boy said obediently, standing and bowing to his father before running off. 

Stephen could somehow see the smirk even though his lover kept a straight face. Harrumph!

MDCXLI

**May 1641**  
 **Westminster, Middlesex, ENGLAND**

“Henry Alnwick has tried to flee the country”, Stephen told Jamie as he came in from the House. “They stopped him but he got away somehow.”

Jamie frowned at that.

“That would be Earl Algernon's² brother, from your home county”, he said. “A rebel family, hated by many of my countrymen.”

“The Percies may have backed both sides like so many”, Stephen said, “but this one has done a great deal of harm to the king that he supposedly supports. He was questioned before he managed to get away and admitted to the existence of a plot by the king to use certain army officers to spring Strafford from the Tower.”

“They surely could not hope to get away with such a thing”, Jamie said dubiously.

“I asked Pym about it, and he told me that Goring³ betrayed the plot to him last week”, Stephen said. “He was waiting for parliament to pass the attainder before using it to put further pressure on the Lords and the king, but now everyone knows thanks to the wonders of the modern media.”

“And this will drive even more in parliament away for a king who is prepared to use violence if constitutional methods do not give him a satisfactory result”, Jamie sighed. “I really hope that this does not all end in war, Ste, but how can anyone strike a peace deal with a king to whom keeping his word is a thing unknown?”

MDCXLI

**May 1641**  
 **Westminster, Middlesex, ENGLAND**

Westminster was a ghost-town, Stephen thought as he returned to the house that Sunday. Even the mobs had quieted their usual roar, waiting anxiously to see the results of their actions. The attainder having passed easily through the Commons it was now before the Lords – where the king had just suffered a grievous blow.

“Bedford has died”, the nobleman told Jamie as soon as he came in. “Smallpox, reportedly, although the stress cannot have helped.”

“That removes the one man who might have managed to effect a compromise”, Jamie sighed. “Why are Pym and his friends so set on Strafford's death? Is it because they do not trust the king?”

Stephen hesitated.

“There is a rumour”, he said, “that Strafford had been gathering evidence about their collusion with the Scots during the recent Bishops' War. If he had been, then it might well have been they who would have found themselves up on a charge of high treason – and with the judges we have now, there would have been no chance of their getting off.”

“Strafford has reportedly written to the king releasing him from his promise to spare his life”, Jamie said. “Perhaps his only move left; he must know that the king might be bullied into signing the warrant anyway, and hope that revulsion at their actions might make enough Lords vote against. A slim chance in my opinion.”

“It will be a poor showing either way”, Stephen said. “Many members of the Upper Chamber are too scared to come to Westminster just now. We shall know today – and so will Strafford.

MDCXLI

"Thirty-seven votes to eleven", Stephen said with a sigh. "And the king was no help."

"What did he do?" Jamie asked.

"Told the Lords that he would save his faithful servant's life", Stephen said. "Fool man! That was basically freeing the Lords from any worries about sending one of their own to the scaffold. Every time I think he cannot be more stupid, he proves me wrong!"

MDCXLI

**May 1641**  
 **Westminster, Middlesex, ENGLAND**

“He has sighed it”, Stephen said the next day. “But he is sending the Prince of Wales to the Lords to appeal for clemency.”

“The same clemency that he showed Prynne, Burton and Bastwick?” Jamie asked dryly. “That is what people will say. What goes around, comes around.”

“I might almost feel sorry for this king”, Stephen said, “except that this is a mess of his own making. He wanted to become an absolute ruler like Louis over in France, and he seemed to have overlooked the small fact that this is England. I fear that we shall see a lot more blood before this is finally settled.”

MDCXLI

**May 1641**  
 **Westminster, Middlesex, ENGLAND**

“You do not think that the king will try anything, father?”

Stephen looked at his son, who was unusually pale. For on this day an English nobleman was set to be executed.

“The reports that Pym is getting say that he has given up”, he said quietly. “Also the execution is to be on Tower Hill, in front of a crowd. No, the earl will meet his Maker today and his blood will lie forever between the king and his enemies. Charles Stuart will never forgive us, and will not rest until he has destroyed us. One way or another.”

“Or until he himself is gone”, Jamie said. “One way or another.”

Stephen thought that it was unnaturally cold for spring.

MDCXLI

**May 1641**  
 **Westminster, Middlesex, ENGLAND**

“That did not take long”, Stephen sighed. “I know that many in the Lords felt that they had been coerced into signing Strafford's death-warrant, and today they exacted their revenge. They have rejected the Root and Branch Bill.”

“I am surprised that Pym sent it up so soon”, Jamie said. “He normally has a good read on how they will react to such things.”

“Negotiations with the Scots are moving towards a conclusion”, Stephen said, “for all that he is trying to both drag them out and make the most of this stupid Army Plot of the king's. And as I said, there is a natural tendency to drift back to the normal order of things; many in the Commons feel that with Strafford gone the king will now see sense and strike a deal with them.”

“Can I have their names?” Jamie asked dryly. “I still have that bridge going over to our American colonies that they might be interested in buying.”

Stephen shook his head at the saucy fellow.

“I am also worried about Adey”, he said. “Mary was due at the end of March, so even given the dreadful state of the roads he surely should have informed us of what has happened.”

“Why not get Diana to work her magic and find out?” Jamie asked. “She tells me that Luke is still seeing that Cromwell girl by the way, which is brave of him. Her father is a sour fellow even for a Puritan; even I would not like to cross him.”

“I shall so do”, Stephen agreed. “But I shall not say anything to Luke just yet. The boy shows great forbearance for one so young, especially when dealing with a sex maniac like you as a relative.”

“You mean when he came to your room yesterday not knowing I had returned and heard me yelling 'Lord above, you want it even harder, my liege?'”

Stephen stared at him in mortification.

“How do you know that?” he demanded.

“I set up three floor-boards outside to creak when someone approaches”, he grinned. “Old army trick. Why do you think he was so red-faced the following morning?”

Stephen just shook his head at him.

MDCXLI

**May 1641**  
 **Westminster, Middlesex, ENGLAND**

Thankfully the expected news from Northumberland arrived the very next day. Stephen was an uncle again, twice over to two new nephews who were called Oswald and Oswy. The reason for the delay was that Mary had been very ill after the birth and for nearly a whole month Aidan had despaired of her life, but thankfully she had pulled through although her husband had very firmly decided that five children was more than enough.

“Quite right too”, Jamie said when Stephen told him. “Some men are quite insatiable when it comes to sex.”

“Do I not know it!” his lover muttered.

He had thought to have said it quietly enough not to be heard, but he had forgotten his lover's excellent senses. Jamie was giving him that look again.... oh well, it was only another boring committee meeting that afternoon. And who needed to sit down anyway?

MDCXLI

The nobleman had to endure an epic eye-roll from his son at the supper-table and an irritating smirk from someone who looked annoyingly unruffled, but it was still worth it!

MDCXLI

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _1) There were two famous Williams of Orange, and this was neither of them. The first was the Dutch leader who started his nation's fight for independence from the Spanish, and whose family hailed originally from the southern French town of Orange. The one in this chapter was that man's grandson, and father of the third William of Orange who would marry his first cousin Mary Stuart (the daughter of Charles the Second's brother James) and, in 1688, be 'invited' to invade England._   
>  _2) Algernon Percy, Earl of Northumberland (b. 1602). A descendant of the famous Hotspur he was initially a Royalist but the king's ill-usage of him and the execution of his friend Strafford made him change sides. The male line twice died out after him but scions of the female line changed their name to Percy, hence the current (2020) duke is Ralph Percy (b. 1956)_   
>  _3) George Goring (b. 1608). An effective army leader but, unfortunately, also an alcoholic. His father was later made Earl of Norwich by the king but it was not until the Restoration that that became a reality, only for the title and line to die out with George's younger brother Charles in 1683._


End file.
